Everything's Made To Be Broken
by QuikkSilver
Summary: With a younger brother for a felon, Rose spent her life cleaning up after Jim. But now that they're searching for treasure in space, Rose has to find out who she is as a woman. And how better to do that then to fall in love with a pirate? Silver/OC
1. Chapter 1: Coming Home

**Title: Pirate Law**

**Chapter Words: 2,632**

**Rating: T (Eventual Romance and some mild language) **

**Author: Quikksilver**

**Disclaimer: All hail Disney for making such a wonderful story such as _Treasure Planet!_ **

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><p><strong>~Chapter One: Coming Home~<strong>

_"I never had a policy, I just tried to do my best each and every day." - _Abraham Lincoln

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><p>She tucked a stray curl of dark hair behind her ear and plunged her hands once more into the thick, soapy water which filled the sink. The dishes clinked mutely beneath the hot surge of water, and the cloth in her hand felt warm and soft against her work-worn fingers and palms. She loved to do the dishes by hand – she had fixed the dishwasher late last night, but doing them by hand was a task she liked and savored, and easy chore which she saved for last. Outside in the dining area, people still chattered and laughed, dragging their heels, unwilling to leave the warmth and camaraderie of the small, slightly lopsided dining area to return to their single rooms. Her mother backed into the kitchen, one hip opening the door and allowing a thread of light to spill into the kitchen, along with a burst of cheerful laughter. The two women shared a glance briefly, identical smiles twitching their mouths. At twenty years old, Rose was her mother in miniature – long brown hair that had an annoying habit of curling in her eyes, warm brown eyes, slender figure, rosebud lips. But Rose was a good head shorter, with less worry lines around her mouth than Sarah, and larger brown eyes. Sarah put down a stack of dishes near Rose's elbow. "Is he home yet?" Rose asked quietly, looking at Sarah. A veil shadowed her eyes for a moment, and then she shook her head numbly. Jamie swished a fork in the water angrily. "He's going to get in trouble!" She said under her breath. "He's not supposed to be out this late. When he comes home, ooh, I'll give him a talking-to..."<p>

"You'll do no such thing," Sarah said tiredly. "As long as he gets home without attracting the attention of the robocops, I'm happy."

"He needs to learn responsibility," Rose said firmly. "And he's certainly not learning it here. The Academy will be good for him, Mom. It'll slap some reality into him. Did you see that little earring he got last week? The next thing he'll get is a tattoo. I'm telling you, Mom, the Academy will sand off his rough edges."

"Space Academy or no Space Academy, it can't replace Leland," Sarah sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. She unpinned her hair, running her fingers through it, and then began re-braiding it. "He needs a father, Rosie. He's getting _better_ – his grades are picking up, at any rate."

At that, Rose was quiet. She had grown up without a father as well, and it had been difficult. She wanted a dad to protect her, to make her feel safe, to read to her, cuddle her, tell her she looked beautiful. But she was older now, more mature, more responsible – she considered herself above all that. She began loading the wet dishes into the steam dryer and wiped the water from her hands. "Grades or no grades, he's on parole," Rose said, her voice clipped and mechanical. "He shouldn't be out solar-surfing when he's supposed to keep both feet on the ground."

Three loud knocks sounded from the door, and Sarah hurried outside, balancing a plate in each hand. She dropped them with a shattering crash when she saw James in the doorway, surrounded by two towering robocops, their metal bodies framing him harshly. Glittering silver shock-cuffs were clamped tightly onto her son's wrists, and he looked up with a surly look on his handsome features. At fifteen, he had that boyish youth that created a glow around him, his dark bangs swinging into his sky-blue eyes, a small gold earring twinkling on his ear. His palms were stained with red clay, a sure sign that he had gone solar-surfing in the quarry, and his boots were scuffed from mounting his board multiple times. A long, angry looking scrape was peeking out from underneath his sleeve, and his shirt was torn at the hem – no doubt from a spill on his surfer. Sarah crossed the room with a bound, and Rose was poking her head out from the kitchen door at the sound of the crash. When she saw her younger brother, she sighed and went back to the kitchen. Jim dropped his gaze and glared at the floor. He was sick of his sister's judgmental views on him! It was harmless fun, nothing more. The robocops shoved him inside, out of the rain. "Mrs. Hawkins?" One of them asked, a sound meter registering on a blank screen on the droid's face. Sarah folded her arms.

"Jim!" Sarah said, her brown eyes hurt. Rose gritted her teeth and leaned against the wall. He had gotten caught _again_, and this time it was going on his record. She fisted a handful of her apron and listened.

"Ma'am, we apprehended your son operating a solar vehicle in a restricted area." The first robocop said crisply, his metallic voice rattling finely around the room. Sarah was suddenly aware that the entire room was listening in, watching her delinquent son get arrested ... _again_. "As you know, this constitutes a violation of his parole, via section fifteen, paragraph... Uh..." The robocop paused, embarrassed, and Jim broke in, a resigned expression on his face.

"Six?" Jim offered, pulling distractedly at the shock-cuffs. They crackled once, leaving a red welt on his skin, and he winced. The second robocop glared at him.

"Thank you." The first one said pointedly. Jim ground his molars together.

"Don't mention it," he growled.

"He is now restricted to this establishment," The second robocop said.

"Yes, well, couldn't we work something out?" Sarah pleaded. Keeping Jim at home would be like trying to contain a tornado – the teenager was moody and unresponsive to anything she said or did, and when she took away his solar surfer he became downright belligerent. To her relief, she heard a familiar voice behind her. It was Dr. Delbert Doppler, an old friend who frequented the Benbow Inn for the conversation. He was a rather silly-looking Canid, with spectacles perched at the end of his snout, watery, myopic eyes, and tan fur. As Canids go, he was rather handsome, but by Human standards he looked like an old dog standing on his hind legs. He cleared his throat forcefully behind Sarah, attracting the attention of the robocops.

"Excuse me? Pardon me, officers? If I might, uh, interject here?" Delbert said timidly. Sarah resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Delbert was rather anxious and private, resulting in a rather mild-mannered bookworm. "I am Doctor Delbert Doppler, the noted astrophysicist. Perhaps you've heard of me?" He waited a beat, hoping for recognition from the droids. "No? Um, I have a clipping," he said feebly, reaching into his vest pocket.

"Are you the boy's father?" Robocop Number One asked bluntly. Doppler and Sarah both looked at each other with identical looks of complete disgust.

"Oh, no, no, no!"

"Ew!"

"Nothing of the kind!"

"He's just an old friend of the family," Sarah explained. "He's nothing like...ah, nothing like that."

"_Back off, sir!_" Both robocops barked in unison. Sarah hurried Delbert back to his table, pushing him out of the way slightly and blocking out Delbert's mutterings.

"Thank you, Delbert, I can take it from here." Sarah said. "Yes, Officers, I'll make sure he doesn't leave." Reluctantly it seemed, the robocops unlatched Jim's wrists from the shock-cuffs, revealing his two welted wrists. The teen glared at them as they tipped their hats and departed, shutting the door to the drizzling rain. Sarah pushed Jim forcibly towards the kitchen, her cheeks flushing as conversation slowly resumed in the dining room, the customers whispering about the delinquent boy who often took their orders. When they were safely inside the kitchen, Sarah turned to Jim. "Jim, I have had it! What has gotten into you? Do you want to ruin your life?"

"What life?" Jim spat bitterly. "I don't do anything, don't go anywhere! There's nothing to do in this house, nothing but take care of those stupid customers! What's so wrong about solar-surfing in the quarry? Plenty of other kids do it, and they don't get caught! Those cops just have it in for me." Jim finished his little speech, one that had been heard many times. Sarah looked at him, her eyes firm.

"You're going to stay here, Jim, until your record is cleaned up. I'm not going to stand by and let you throw away your entire future! You have so much potential, Jim!" Sarah said. Jim swallowed, hot tears rising, unbidden, to his eyes. He blinked and rammed the hard lump down his throat. When he spoke, his voice broke slightly.

"What future?" He said, turning away from his mother. His shoulder was a dejected line, small frame slouching in his anger and frustration. Sarah reached out for him, to touch his shoulder, let him know he wasn't alone, and then thought better of it. No doubt the angry teen would brush her off, sarcastic and cold, and wound Sarah with another branded insult. So Sarah sighed, and picked up her serving tray. She had customers to take care of. There was silence in the kitchen for a long moment, and then Jim looked up, his eyes dark. Rose was standing there, watching him, her brown eyes unfathomable. "What?" He snapped. Rose didn't say anything for a long moment, just unpinned her hair and let the chestnut-colored curls fall down around her shoulders. Her small hands untied her apron and hung it on a hook. When she had finished, she opened one of the cupboards.

"Take off your shirt," she said with a sigh. Jim looked at her warily, then peeled off his tunic, revealing a flat, firm torso which had a small line of fuzz disappearing into the waistband of his leggings. He sat down on a chair, and Rose came over with a roll of clean bandages and a bottle of murky liquid. Her practiced eye scanned him in a blink, taking in the subtle bruising on his left side, and his barked shoulder and forearm. His wrists were puffy and red from the shock-cuffs, and she tore off a strip of bandages. "You went too fast on that dozer in the quarry, didn't you?" she said quietly, wrapping his welted wrists. "You always had trouble taking that turn."

"Wasn't my fault," Jim said, just as quietly. "I thought taking a shortcut would shake the cops off."

"Don't do that again," Rose said firmly, and Jim hissed as the ointment came into contact with his skinned shoulder. "Leave those bandages on your wrists tonight. They'll heal by tomorrow." She took both his hands in hers and looked at him. "You're doing it again." She said. "You're passing us off. Dad's gone, Jim, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Who says this is about Dad?" Jim said angrily, shoving her away and getting up. Her pulled his tunic roughly over his head. "You're the one who seems so hung up on him. You're the one who was so mad that he wasn't here to protect you from that jerk."

"You're not impressing anybody by doing stupid stunts like that." Rose said. When she was angry, she didn't shout. She got quiet and cold, her mouth going tight and her brown eyes turning frosty. "You're going to get hurt going to the quarry – not to mention you're not supposed to be there anyway."

"Why are you so obsessed with rules?" Jim snapped. "Following every little rule in the book won't bring Dad back!"

"Neither will risking your life every day by doing stunts in the quarry with an old solar-surfer." Rose reminded him coldly. "You should try following the rules once in a while, James. It might keep those marks off your record."

"Perfect Rosie," Jim sneered. "Always the law-abiding citizen." He buttoned his jacket angrily and went to the door. He threw the door open and stormed outside into the steady, weeping rain that pattered against the docks. He ignored Rose's call to come back, and instead slammed the door hard, rattling it in its frame. He took the corner of the house and mounted the dustbins, fingers grasping the sagging roof of the Benbow Inn, hauling himself upwards. He had been going to the roof to think ever since he was a child, and he had always loved the view of Montressor Spaceport from this angle. The clouds were low and dreary, clinging the the slender curve of the faraway Spaceport like a shroud. He sighed and leaned against the chimney, his hands going into his pockets. Beneath him, he could hear the incessant burble of the happy patrons, chowing down on the food his mother was preparing for him. And his older sister, Rose, was most likely washing dishes and cooking food perfectly as always.

His fingers found a pebble which must have slipped into his pocket during his tumble in the quarry. Stupid Rose. Always doing everything perfectly. Ever since they were children, Rose had strived to be the best in _everything_ – she wasn't naturally competitive, but she liked to be on top. It had gotten even worse when Leland had left, turning her into a nagging older sister who harped on him for every little mistake. She scolded him for not keeping his room clean, chided him about his grades, argued with him about his solar surfer. He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed with her. He flicked the pebble angrily. She never thought how hard it was growing up without a dad, going to school on Father's Day and having to stand there awkwardly when exuberant children paraded their father's up the aisle. She didn't know how stupid he felt when the older kids teased him about his missing father. She hadn't been there when he had raced down to the dock, screaming for his father. She didn't see the blank nothingness in Leland's eyes when the ship pulled away from the dock, didn't see the _indifference_.

The only time she had ever said anything about missing her father was when she came home one night with a black eye. She had been crying and almost incoherent, but Sarah had coaxed the tale out of her. Luke, a young man Rose had been dating and very seriously considering to marry, had hit her during an argument. Jim remembered the night so vividly, remembered the prickling feeling of helplessness that swept through his body. He was too young – only fourteen at the time – do anything about it. Rose had lashed out for the first time against her father. "He wasn't here!" she had shrieked. "He didn't protect me!" After that night, she never said anything about Leland, except to make Jim behave. The bruise had faded, along with her sharp attitude towards men in general, but Jim remembered. There was always a simmering shame – the desire to cover it up, to make her be quiet about their father. Leland was never mentioned publically – although there were quiet murmurs of sympathy from general mothers. "Shame on him," Jim remembered on mother saying. "Shame on him for leaving a wife and two young children alone!"

His thoughts were disturbed by a whining rattle, like a dying engine. He looked up, and saw an old black ship sputtering towards the docks, smoke belching from its rivets and pipes. A large scorch mark had been tattooed onto its side, and there were several dents in the hull. It crashed against the dock, and Jim slipped off the roof, landing, running, seeing if anybody was hurt or needed help.

All thoughts of Leland vanished like smoke on the wind.

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><p><strong>AN: I'm concerned about making Rose too Mary Sue. Is she? I'm trying to make this fic as non MS as possible. All reviewers will be thanked publically and given a cookie!**


	2. Chapter 2: Keep Him Safe

**Title: Pirate Law**

**Chapter Words: 2,956**

**Rating: T for some eventual romance and mild language.**

**Author: Quikksilver**

**Disclaimer: Kudos to Disney for this fantastic movie! Only Rose is mine.**

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><p><strong>~Chapter One: Keep Him Safe~<strong>

_"Our siblings - they resemble us just enough to make all their differences confusing, and no matter what we choose to make of this, we are cast in relation to them our whole lives long." - _Susan Scarf Merrell

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><p>She carefully swept the remaining pile of dust into a pan, and then emptied the pile into the trash. Sarah was talking to Delbert in a low, serious voice, and Rose had an inkling they were talking about Jim. With a sigh, she went over to the first table and began wiping it free of any spills. Candles were guttering low in candleholders on each table, and as she cleaned the stations she blew them out. Soon the dining room was in a low, hazy, dusky light, with shadows clinging to harsh surfaces. The fireplace was glowing red embers, the only light in the room except the low-burning candle on Delbert's table. Rose took the handkerchief out of her hair and ran her fingers through the light brown curls. Stuffing the handkerchief into her pocket, she went over to the kitchen and leaned against the sink, taking a few steadying breaths. Jim was right – following every little rule in the book wouldn't bring her father back. Massaging the nape of her neck, she began thinking about her precious book she had stuffed under her mattress upstairs in her room. Books were an unheard of luxury, mostly because holo-books were all the rage now. She preferred to read on her own, but the paper was expensive and the old-fashioned printing tools even more so. But the book was large and she wasn't even half finished with it yet.<p>

Rose was playing her favorite game – trying to guess the ending of the book – when there was a resounding crash throughout the small inn. Hastily, she gathered her skirts and ran outside into the dining room, where Jim and some massive shape stood. Her hand flew to her mouth, and she froze, taking in the details of the stranger. It was a Tortian, an old species that lived for hundreds of years. A long, leathery neck was protruding from a oil-skin covered shell, yellow-and-orange eyes bulging as it gasped hideously for breath. Hot, moist air belched from its mouth, and the stranger was shuddering spasmodically. A weather-beaten tricorn hat was sitting on its scalp, and one claw pawed the air feebly. "James!" Sarah gasped, crossing the room and looking at the thing which was now sitting in her dining room. Jim tugged the Tortian a few more feet, and then gave up, slamming the door behind him.

"He's hurt, Mom," Jim said, dropping to his knees. A swatch of dark hair fell in his eyes as he examined the shuddering Tortian. "He's hurt bad." Rose shook herself and crouched next to the shaking Tortian, patting one of his calloused claws. The Tortian coughed, a deep, ragged cough that tore from his throat and sounded like a draft rattling through a dungeon.

"Me chest, lad!" The Tortian said, a cracked voice with a thick pirate accent. "Me chest...Don't wanna lose that..."

Jim pushed over a small chest, roughly the size of a cat, and settled it in the hands of the old pirate. The chest itself looked terrible – there were scorch marks and deep gouges where it had been forced open on numerous occasions, and what looked like desperate claw rakings along the side, as though it had been torn from someone's grasp. Four battered buttons with different symbols on them were settled beneath a keyhole, and the Tortian brushed a knuckle across them, opening the chest. The hinges squealed in pain, one of them quite rusted and the other snapped off completely, and the old spacer plucked out a ball of cloth, wrapped hastily around with twine. "He'll be a-comin' soon," The spacer hacked. "Can't let 'im find t'is!" The ball of cloth was shoved into Jim's hands, and the spacer stared wildly at him. Jim's brows knotted in concentration.

"Whose coming?" Jim asked, confused, his hands turning the lumpy ball of cloth in his hands. Suddenly, a wizened paw shot out and seized a handful of Jim's shirt, dragging him forcibly closer to the old Tortian. Rose automatically cried out and reached for Jim, but Jim heard the raspy words echoing in his ear.

"The cyborg! Beware...the cyborg!" The old spacer released Jim's shirt and fell back, eyes slowly dimming. Rose was staring, stricken, at the dead body, and then let out a little squeak of horror, scrambling backwards on the floor.

"He's d-dead!" Rose said, eyes wide and swimming with tears. "Oh, gods, he's dead!"

Everyone heard it – the distinctive whine of an engine pulling up to dock. But this wasn't steady and controlled, as most spacers were when they pulled up to a port – this crashed straight through the docks and rammed itself on the shores. They all looked up, and Jim shot to his feet, jumping easily over a table and standing at one of the windows. Using a finger, he tipped the shades backwards to look outside. A dark, ominous shape was smoking on the docks, and shadowy figures were leaping ghoulishly out of it. A large shape, indistinguishable through the slashing rain and driving winds, was approaching rapidly. "We gotta go!" Jim said, hauling Rose to her feet by the arm and pulling her upstairs. Rose broke free, panicked, and backed up, allowing Sarah to follow Jim. Delbert was hot on their heels, a singed slipper sitting like a wounded animal on the stairs.

Rose had one bewildering thought – to get her book. Delbert was forcing open a window, and Jim was peering over the banister. Assorted people had smashed through the door and were ransacking the dining room. He spun around to see Rose disappearing down the hallway. "Rose! Wait! Don't!" He shouted after her, but she took no notice. She slammed into her room and snatched her book from her mattress, along with her handful of pictures of Leland. She stuffed them into her pocket and held the book tightly in her arms. Smoke was rising from the downstairs, and Rose looked, horror-stricken, over the edge of the stairs. To her terror, a pirate looked up, and they locked eyes. She would remember those eyes for the rest of her life – huge yellow orbs, slitted in anger, red irises, and ragged gray hair around them. Those scant details branded themselves into her memory, and she hardly noticed Jim yanking her towards the window.

They tumbled out the window, landing in Delbert's cart, bruising themselves a good deal along the way. Rose held on tight to her book, cradling it to her chest, and yelped when Jim landed on her ankle. Sarah pulled her only son through the cart and risked a look behind her, staring at the red flames licking around her precious inn. Rose stared, watching the ashes rise into the night sky, the flames devouring the only place she had to call home. Sarah buried her face in her hands and sighed, letting a few tears roll down her cheeks. Jim pulled the sphere out of his pocket and unwrapped it, examining the dull brass sphere curiously, his head cocking to one side. It was grooved oddly and there were a few arrows and symbols on it, but the light was too poor to see much else. Rose hugged her book and wished fiercely to be inside it, wishing against all hopes that this was just an awful dream and she was really a princess, locked in a tower, waiting for a handsome prince to rescue her.

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><p>Delbert's house was huge – a mansion, left behind to him from his incredibly wealthy father and distinguished mother. He had updated and added a large astronomy tower, thousands of shelves all crammed with books, and a large quantity of tea. Delbert was known for his tea, because he imported it specially from the Kinopis spaceport, where the best dried tea came from. A cup of this was held in Sarah's hand as she sat in Delbert's armchair, close to his fire. Her hair was still halfheartedly pulled back in a ponytail, but Rose had abandoned all pretense and was staring out the window at the stars. Her legs were tucked beneath her as she sat on the cushioned window seat, breath fogging the windows. Delbert was standing by Sarah. "I just spoke with the Constabulary," he said quietly to the grief-stricken woman. "Those blasted pirates fled without a trace. I'm sorry, Sarah – I'm afraid the old Benbow Inn has burned to the ground."<p>

Sarah closed her eyes and tried to focus on the scent of the tea. Raspberry, orange, and some sort of other citrusy smell that danced elusively away from her. A hot tear stroked a damp trail down her cheek, and she tried to block out the painful memories of when she first bought the Benbow. Leland had thought her mad, buying such an old, rundown old inn and pouring so much money into it. But Sarah had fallen in love with it the moment she saw it, loved all the creaky stairs and the drafty hallways, the hollow walls and vaulted ceilings. She had felt at home whenever she walked through the doors. Delbert cleared his throat, evidently trying hastily to change the subject. "Whoever they were, they went through a lot of trouble over that odd little sphere," he said, looking at Jim who was standing by himself. The teen was toying with it, tossing it from hand to hand and pressing buttons at random, twisting it and trying to juggle it a little. "Even with my vast knowledge of all minutiae and superior intellect towards unknown objects, it would take me years to even – hey!"

Thousands of blue and green pixels were pouring out of the sphere, and Jim held the globe uncertainly. Rose looked up, startled, from her perch on the window seat and came a few tentative steps closer, watching the beads sketch out long lines of blue marks. It encircled them, spreading around the room like a dome, sketching out a web of latitude and longitude. Delbert adjusted his glasses, examining the scale map with interest. "Why – it's a map!" he said, examining the holographic pixels with curiosity. "Wait, wait, wait, this is us! Montressor!" He tapped a small planet timidly with his thumb and yelped in surprise when the map began to shift. Stars, planets, and galaxies began to move and twirl. Delbert couldn't help pointing out a few objects of interest – the Kerrian Abyss, the Megalanic Cloud, the Coral Galaxy. But his scientific chatter stopped completely when he saw a large planet looming in front of them, star dust crossed in an X formation over the planet. "It's...No! Can it be?" Delbert said, staring awestricken at the planet. Jim's blue eyes were round as saucers and they reflected the planet.

"Treasure Planet!" He said. "That's Treasure Planet!"

"No!" Delbert said, taking off his glasses. "Flint's Trove? The Loot of a Thousand Worlds? Do you know what this means?"

"It means," Jim said, tossing the ball once in his palm, "That all of that treasure is just a boat ride away."

"Whoever brings it back," Delbert said, arms outstretched, caught in his own fantasy world, "would be hold an eternal place among the pantheon of explorers! He'd be able to experience – wait, what just happened?"

Jim closed the sphere, twisting it and locking it in place. He stood in front of Sarah, his blue eyes brighter than she had seen them before, his face open and alive with exhilaration. "This is it, Mom! This is the answer to all our problems!" Sarah looked at his brilliant, hopeful face, his cheeks flushed, thick dark bangs cutting a line across his jawline, his earring gleaming dully in the crackling firelight. She released her breath slowly, shaking her head.

"Jim, there is absolutely no way –" She began, preparing her arguments even as she was speaking. Jim cut her off, heedless of his mother, his excitement frothing over him in an elixir of exuberance.

"Don't you remember? All those stories?" He said eagerly. Rose came up behind him, her arms folded tightly across her chest, her teeth set, her brown eyes cold.

"That's all they were, Jim. Stories. And for all we know, that map is a fake. What, so an injured Tortian crashes into our inn, pirates burn the place to the ground, and you expect us to just follow this map heedlessly? If those pirates burned our inn down for that little ball, then you can be _certain _that we're all in a hell of a lot of danger! If they're willing to burn an inn down, they won't hesitate to kill a child." Rose snapped. Jim turned to her, blue eyes going hazy and dark, flickering.

"I'm not a kid!" He shouted. "And this can _help_ us, Rose! We know it's real – those pirate wouldn't be looking for it if it wasn't! Right, Mom?" He asked, turning to his mother. Sarah fell back in the armchair, rubbing her eyes.

"This is just – I mean – wait, just a moment- you can't be – Delbert, help me out here!" Sarah said helplessly. Delbert tucked his thumbs into his vest and straightened his glasses.

"It's completely preposterous, traversing the entire galaxy alone," Delbert said, looking formally at Sarah. Rose threw up her hands and sat down on the piano bench.

"There, you see? Thank you, Doctor!" Rose said. Delbert snatched up a carpet bag and beamed at Jim.

"That's why I'm going with you."

"WHAT?" Rose and Sarah burst out at once. Rose was on her feet, Sarah was sitting up, and Jim punched the air. Delbert began stuffing things into his carpet bag; books, maps, scrolls, a toothbrush, all the while looking like a child at Christmastime.

"I'll hire a ship, and a captain, and a crew," he said excitedly, digging around inside the piano to find a certain book he was looking for. "All my life I've been waiting for an opportunity like this, and here it is, screaming at me!" He emerged, dusty, disheveled, and wholly excited, his carpet bag bulging strangely with items. Sarah massaged her temples.

"Enough! Both of you, be quiet and let me think!" Sarah said, and sat back, shaking her head a little. There was a long moment of silence, and then Jim spoke, his voice breaking slightly as he kept his eyes on his mother.

"Mom...I know I keep messing up," Jim began slowly, one hand automatically going behind his head to play with his braid, "and I know...That I let you down." He paused, his blue eyes dropping to the floor. The hard, cutting lines around Rose's eyes softened subtly. "But this is my chance to make it up to you," Jim said, eyes capturing Sarah's. "I can make things right. Just – just give me one more chance. Please."

"Sarah? Ahm, if I may?" Delbert said, gesturing off to one side. Sarah went over to him and folded her arms. "You said yourself, you've tried everything. Why not try this? With the right captain and a good person to watch over him, he'll straighten out his rough edges. There are much harsher remedies that a few character-building months in space. Space changes people, Sarah – you and I both know that."

Sarah felt her ruffled feathers smooth, and she looked at Delbert with a knowing look. "Are you telling me all this because it's the right thing for Jim, or because you really want to find this treasure?" Delbert shrugged a little, a sheepish grin toying with the corner of his mouth.

"I really, really, really, _really _want to find this treasure," Delbert said. "_And _it's the right thing."

Sarah turned and walked slowly back to Jim, tucking his thick bangs behind his ear, her bottom lip tucked between her teeth. She sighed. "Jim...I can't lose you."

"You won't, Mom. I'll make you proud." Jim said, that puppy-dog light coming back into his eyes. Rose finally spoke up.

"This is stupid," Rose said frostily. "Mom, you can't be serious about letting him go alone. This is all nice, and everything, but Doctor, you can't keep an eye on Jim all the time. I grew up with him – it's _impossible_." Delbert looked chagrined, and Jim growled at her. Sarah stepped between them easily.

"An excellent point, Rose," Sarah said. "That's exactly the reason you're going with them." She jerked her head towards Jim and Delbert. Rose looked shocked.

"No, what?" She spluttered. "Mom, don't, you can't!" She pleaded. She _hated_ space – she lived in constant fear of it. Sarah kissed the crown of her head, pushing her thick fringe of chestnut hair away from her brown eyes.

"Rose, you said yourself that Delbert can't manage Jim," Sarah said. "Besides, someone needs to take care of these two boys." She offered a little smile to her oldest daughter. Jim spoke up, sounding more than a little hurt that his sister and mother were talking about him like he was five years old.

"But Mom," he complained. "I'm _fine_ on my own. I'll stay near Delbert – right?" He said, looking to Delbert for support. Delbert nodded a few times, but with subtle reluctance. Rose ignored them and turned to Sarah.

"What about you?" Rose said. "I can't leave you here on your own." Sarah smiled at her daughter – a real, genuine smile that showed Sarah's natural warmth.

"I'll be fine. Don't worry about me. You and Jim need to see something for yourselves. This will be good. You'll see."

And then, just the barest whisper in her ear when Sarah bent to kiss Rose on the cheek -

"Keep him safe, Rose. I'm counting on you."

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><p><strong>AN: I won't be able to update for about a week or so, because midterms are looming over me and cramming is a must. **

**Special Thanks:**

**TMNTdisneyfan2013: Sorry about the paragraph spacing - I tried to cut down on the descriptions in this chapter; tell me what you think!**

**Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal: Thanks for putting me on Author Alert! I was so flattered I made this little fangirly 'eep' noise! :) **


	3. Chapter 3: Be Careful

**Title: Pirate Law**

**Chapter Words: 3,067**

**Rating: T for Mild Languge and Themes of a Personal Nature.**

**Author: QuikkSilver**

**Disclaimer: ... Honestly ... **

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><p><strong>~Chapter Three: Be Careful~<strong>

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><p><em>A man can't be too careful in the choice of his enemies. - <em>Oscar Wilde

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><p>Montressor Spaceport was alive and bustling with aliens of all classes, races, and creeds. Space gulls, their electric blue plumage gleaming in the sunlight, wheeled and called overhead, some of them boldly perching a mere stone's throw from the busy passengers. Taverns shouted messages from the soaped-over windows, their holographic boards flickering every few seconds and showing a different advertisement. Aliens with multiple arms carried barrels the size of small cows, their broad, slightly sticky chests bared under the blazing sun. Languages twisted together in a brilliant tapestry of words and sounds, blending and gliding apart as smoothly as the space gulls danced in the skies. Jim felt like a child at Christmastime, his large blue eyes bright and round at the sight of so many people, places, things. Rose drew closer to Delbert and adjusted her bag on her shoulder. Both she and Jim carried a small bag of clothes, personal items, and what money Sarah could spare. After many tearful goodbyes, Sarah reluctantly allowed them to join Delbert as they left Montressor and found their way through the bustling spaceport towards the docks. Rose, unlike Jim, was tense as an alley cat and ready and snatch Jim away from any predator lurking in the shadows at a moment's notice.<p>

Jim was dressed in an old outfit of Leland's – slightly too-large trousers tucked into battered black boots, and an olive green tunic tucked into his far too large leather belt. His hair was back in his usual ponytail, and his earring glinted brightly in the sunlight. His black coat was shrugged onto his shoulders, for the breeze was stiff as it came off the docks and on the tails of arriving ships. Rose's long brown hair was pulled into a sideways braid, the thick rope hanging over her left shoulder, and she wore a stiff new skirt that Sarah had bought her. Her neatly mended white blouse didn't look as shabby with the new blue skirt, and it was the first garment Sarah had bought brand new for quite some time. Rose tugged worriedly at her braid as she followed Delbert down yet another street. It was quite a trick – trying to stay close enough to Jim to let people know she was in charge of him, and trying to stay away from Delbert, who was attracting snide whispers and rude giggles from salty spacers. Delbert had splurged and bough a ridiculous, loud, mustard yellow spacesuit, complete with scuba helmet, and he clanked like a suit of armor when he walked. Rose rolled her eyes and toyed nervously with the end of her braid, twirling it around her finger.

Delbert, apparently feeling in a protective mood, attempted to get in a conversation with the awestruck Jim. He clapped his young charge on the shoulder and beamed at him. "Well! This should be an excellent time for us to, uh, get to know one another! You know what they say, 'Familiarity breeds –' well, contempt. But in our case –"

"Look," Jim said, trying not to laugh with limited success, "Let's just find the ship, okay? C'mon, Rose." Delbert watched Jim continue up the walk and then sighed. He looked at Rose for assistance, and wasn't surprised to see the look of anxiousness and forced determination on her face. She caught Delbert's mingled sympathetic look.

"Don't take it personally," Rose said to Delbert softly. "He's not all that wild about trusting people. Just wait a while. He'll come around."

"It's the suit, isn't it?" Delbert sighed, following Rose after Jim, who was looking around confusedly at the maze of streets around him. "This is why men shouldn't go shopping! I can't believe I listened to that pushy two-headed saleswoman. The left one said it fit, the right one said it was my color, I didn't know what to do, I get so flustered." He sighed, and they managed to catch up to Jim. The teen looked up at them and shrugged slightly sheepishly, one eyebrow cocked.

"I think we're lost," Jim said, craning his neck and looking around at the dozens of street signs. "We're not near the docks any more."

"Let's ask for directions," Rose said. "No! Not from him!" she hissed at Jim when her younger sibling opened his mouth to ask directions from a tentacle-covered alien.

"Why not?" Jim asked, a little annoyed and more than a bit exasperated.

"He has a shifty look in his eye," Rose said firmly, marching across the street with her nose in the air. Jim threw up his hands.

"They all have shifty looks in their eyes! They're _spacers_! They just came from _space_! They're probably so glassy eyed they can't see straight." Jim complained, following his older sister across the street. She was clenching the strap of her bag, but her voice was level and her eyes were unwavering as she posed her question to the window-washing aliens.

"Second berth on your right!" one of the aliens said.

"You can't miss it," the other added.

"Thank you," Rose said, and took off down the street. Delbert and Jim exchanged a glance, and then followed her, trying to duck and weave through the crowd. Rose, who had a good deal of experience moving through crowds with a heavy tray in her hand, was passing through with little difficulty, but Delbert was hapless as usual. After yet another round of "Sorry!" and "Excuse me!" and "Pardon!", Delbert walked right into Jim, who was standing next to Rose. The two siblings were staring at the ship, their mouths slightly open.

The _R.L.S. Legacy_ was not a large ship – she was quite small, compared to some of the smoke-belching whales that were pulling into port. But she was sleek, with a glossy coat of blue paint on her trim, and her solar sails were drawn up tightly. Colored flags were decorating the masts and rails, and the thick rope securing the _Legacy_ to the docks was clean and new. From this distance, the spacers looked like ants as they scurried to and fro on the decks, fetching, carrying, untying knots and hauling barrels aboard. Above her, the sky was hard and bright, a perfect backdrop to the pretty little ship. Delbert led them up the gangplank, Rose skimming a finger across the ropes, and onto the wide, clean deck. Jim looked up at the aliens climbing the rigging as easily as monkeys, scaling the dizzying heights with ease. He walked straight into a large, fat alien that closely resembled a slug with tentacles. It actually farted, several times in rapid succession, the pitch and tone changing as it shook a fist at him. Rose opened her mouth, a little stunned and disgusted, to apologize, but Delbert cut in.

"Allow me to handle this," Delbert said importantly, and began mimicking the slug's odd, obscene sounding noises. After a brief speech, the slug-creature looked at him and then burst out laughing, tipping his hat. Delbert swaggered off, and Rose suspected his tail was wagging self-importantly. "I'm fluent in Flatula," Delbert announced. "Took two years of it in high school."

Jim smiled but raised his eyebrows. "Flatula," he said to himself, shaking his head. "Oh, brother."

In the middle of the deck stood a large man, appearing to be made entirely of granite. His skin was ash gray, with a strong jaw that could only be described as rocky. Two small, close-set black eyes peered from beneath a thick slab of a brow, and he was shouting orders to the crew. Delbert approached him and smiled cheerfully. "Good morning, Captain! Everything, er, ship-shape?"

The man looked almost condescendingly at Delbert. "Ship-shape she is, sir, but I'm not the captain. The captain's aloft." All eyes turned to the rigging.

A small, feminine figure caught hold of a stray rope, swung from the crow's nest to the jib boom, turned three somersaults, and landed neatly on the deck on her feet, short-cropped auburn hair coiffed to perfection. A crisp white shite was covered by a petite blue captain's jacket, and long white gloves rose to her elbow. Thigh-high black boots, slicked and buffed to a high gloss, covered most of her long, slender legs and form-fitting gray leggings. Large green eyes, the pupils slitted like a cats, spoke that she was a Felid of high descent. Furry, well-set ears flicked upwards as she marched over, her arms folded closely in front of her slender figure. "Mr. Arrow, I've checked this miserable ship from stem to stern," she said in a frosty, clipped tone of voice that had the bite of a British accent in it. "And as _usual_ –" here her disapproval melted and her ears went back as she smiled at her officer, "it's spot on. Can you get nothing wrong, old friend?"

The rocky giant – who was apparently named Mr. Arrow – tipped his hat. "You flatter me, Captain," he said, and stood stiffly at attention again. She winked at him and strode over to Delbert, whose jaw was hanging slack. "Ah! Doctor Doppler, I presume?" she said, examining his ludicrous space-suit with a frank and critical eye.

"I, uh, erm, yes, ah –" Delbert stuttered, quite at a loss as what to say to this businesslike officer who had a lean, slender beauty that was absolutely stunning.

"Hello?" The captain said mockingly, rapping smartly on Delbert's scuba helmet. "Can you hear me in there?"

"Yes, yes, I can, stop that banging!" Delbert snapped, waving her off. Beautiful or not, she was annoying. He struggled to get the helmet off, the heels of his paw-like hands trying unsuccessfully to pry up the lip of his suit. The captain raised a long eyebrow and smirked.

"If I may, Doctor, this works so much better –" she broke off and spun him around abruptly, pushing a few buttons, "If you have it right way up and plugged in. Lovely, there you are." She gave him a smug little grin as he yanked off his helmet in an annoyed fashion.

"If you don't mind, I can manage my own plugging!" Delbert said, waving a mitted finger in the slender Felid's face. She gripped the accusatory finger in a vice grip, shaking it firmly in a surprisingly strong grip. He noticed that long, dark nails protruded through the tips of her bleached white gloves, and they scratched gently at his wrist when she shook his hand.

"I'm Captain Amelia, late of a few run-ins with the Procyon Armanda. But that's a long story and I won't bore you with my old scars. You've met my first mate, Mr. Arrow? Good. He's everything a first mate should be – sterling, tough, honest, dependable, brave and true." Amelia said quickly, that smug little smirk still playing about her beautiful features. Mr. Arrow tipped his hat again.

"Captain, please," he said, offering a mild protest. She turned to him, patting him once on the shoulder.

"Oh, shut up Arrow, you know I don't mean a word of it." Amelia said teasingly. Delbert raised his eyebrows and cleared his throat.

"Yes, well, I hate to interrupt this _lovely_ banter," Delbert said, not looking as though he was at all, "but may I introduce Jim Hawkins? Jim, you see, is the boy who found the treasure –"

Here his words were abruptly cut short as Amelia caught both of Delbert's cheeks in her hand and squeezed. "Doctor! May I have a private word with you, in my cabin?" She asked, her brilliant green eyes narrowing and going suddenly cold as she glanced around uneasily. As Jim and Rose began to follow her, she turned sharply to Rose. "And who might you be?"

"I'm Rose Hawkins, ma'am," Rose said, curtsying slightly. "James's older sister."

Instead of shaking Rose's hand, Amelia rolled her eyes and gripped Delbert by the arm. "Oh, you've done everything wrong, haven't you, Doctor?" Amelia hissed in his ear as she propelled him towards a doorway. "You've got a lot to learn before you're going anywhere."

09

The captain's stateroom was spacious and filled with hard blocks of light. A bookshelf, filled with curious flotsam and jetsam, stood erect in one corner, and the smooth gold floors were polished to a thin sheen. Her desk was orderly and neat, bearing several maps, stacks of paper, a few quills, and an inkwell in ramrod straight order. Several large globes, highlighting a few popular planets were lined up in order to size on her shelf, and there was a whole line of sparkling awards – gleaming brass medals, shining gold pins, and several broad velvet stripes shouting out decorations. Rose fiddled anxiously with the end of her braid and tugged at her hair. Amelia strode inside her quarters and shut the door behind them with a decisive snap. "Doctor," she said, crossing her hands behind her back and taking slow, decisive steps, "To muse and blabber about a certain treasure map, in front of _this particular crew_, demonstrates a level of ineptitude that borders o the imbecilic."

"Imbecilic?" Delbert sputtered. "Foolishness, I've been called, but –"

"May I see the map?" Amelia asked icily. Jim glanced at her, blue eyes narrowing as he assumed his surly attitude, his shoulders hardening into a taut line. Delbert gestured impatiently, and Jim tossed the dull brass sphere to the captain. She caught it easily with her catlike reflexes, and for an instant a little smile twitched the corners of her mouth. Her green eyes were round like an interested cat, examining the minute scrawls and runes on the ball. "Fascinating." She remarked, and crossed her stateroom. Her deft fingers lay the little golden ball in a nest of velvet, and then locked her cupboard. "Mister Hawkins, you would be wise to take a leaf from your sister's book. In the future, you will address me as 'Captain', or 'Ma'am', is that clear?"

Jim threw Rose a furious look, and she glared stonily away from him, burning a hole in the wall. Why did she have to show proper respect all the time? Furiously, he locked his jaw, and almost didn't hear Amelia's warning note in her voice. "Mister Hawkins?" She asked, and Jim saw the dangerous glint in her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Jim said tersely. Amelia's green eyes flashed once more.

"That'll do. Now, Doctor, if you will be so good as to keep your blathering lip buttoned about treasure maps unless in this very room, we shall all be right as rain. I will make this as simple as possible – I do not much care for this crew you hired. They are uncouth, ragged, despicable, and – what did I say again, Mr. Arrow? I said something rather good this morning before coffee."

"A ludicrous parcel of driveling galoots, ma'am." Mr. Arrow offered.

"There you go – poetry." Amelia had that maddening smirk on her face again. Delbert braced her desk with his hands angrily.

"Now, see here – !" he began furiously, and Amelia cut him off yet again.

"Mr. Arrow, would you be so good as to escort the good Doctor and his young charge down to the galley? Mister Hawkins will be working for the cook, Mister Silver." Amelia said, her tone brooking no argument. "Ah, not you, Miss Hawkins. I wish to have a word with you."

Rose looked worried, and Amelia saw a glimpse of the anxious, nervous nature that had naturally built up beneath the cool layers of masks and facades. Jim and Delbert left with Arrow, Jim sputtering angrily about working for a cook, and Delbert muttering about being bossed around by a woman. Rose tugged the end of her braid again. "There is no need to look so worried, Miss Hawkins – I only wish to warn you." Amelia said, in a tight attempt of soothing.

"Warn me of what, Ma'am?" Rose asked quietly, her voice small but polite. Amelia sized her up openly, her large green eyes flickering around the slight woman's small figure and round cheeks, the pretty dark eyes fringed thickly with lashes, her chocolate hair barely contained in a braid.

"I will not lie – I did not expect another woman to be on board. In some ways, it's the greatest folly to bring a woman on board – with weeks out into space, men's basest ... passions come into play. Your friend the Doctor I fear will not be of much help, and your brother, although spirited, will not be much of a match for a hardened spacer." Amelia said, her voice clipped.

Rose bit her lip and took a chance. "Ma'am, with all due respect, _you're _a woman."

Amelia seemed a little taken aback, as if she hadn't honestly considered it. "Yes, I suppose I am. But keep in mind that I have worked very, very hard to come across not as a woman, but as a captain who will tolerate no nonsense. So my warning is this: Be careful. I don't want you eating in the mess hall with the other spacers – if Mr. Silver will allow it, I want you to eat in the kitchens, alone. I'll have Arrow draw up a bunk for you near my quarters instead of a hammock in the main berth. At all times, do not let down your guard. Never go above deck alone – I want you to be with your brother or the doctor at all times. If you wish to bathe, then come to me and I'll see what I can do. If there are any, ah, personal items which you need, then do not hesitate to ask me. I shall do all I can. But again, be careful."

"Do you think anything will happen?" Rose asked, her voice suddenly vanishing. Her blood pounded in her temples, and she felt suddenly dizzy. The fear of being attacked rose up in a nauseous wave in her throat, but she forced it back down with a swallow. A bitter taste rose in her mouth as Amelia sighed deeply and stroked her temples with her long, elegant fingers.

"I hope and pray that nothing will. But to prevent even the slightest chance, you are to be very, very careful at all times. Am I clear, Miss Hawkins?" Amelia asked.

Eyes ducked, chin lowered, lashes almost closed. Her body now felt eerily light and icy cold.

"Yes, Ma'am."

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><p><strong>AN: Thanks to all of your lovely reviews! Midterms are OVER! Yay! Slap me on the back! :) **

**~SPECIAL THANKS~**

**KaseyKay10: **I'm glad you like it! I hope you still find it interesting in chapters to come.

**Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGirl: **I think sparks will definitely fly when Silver and Rose finally meet, but not in the way you think. :) Opposites attract, you know.

**TMNTdisneyfan2013: **I'm glad you do! Thanks for the review! (Wow, that rhymes. Yuck, too many poetry classes.)

**Kaitamis: **Here you go! I'm happy you think it's 'sweet'!


	4. Chapter 4: Distrust

**Title: Pirate Law**

**Chapter Word: 2,401**

**Rating: T For Eventual Romance and Mild Language**

**Author: QuikkSilver**

**Disclaimer: O.O GRR.**

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><p><strong>~Chapter Four: Distrust~<strong>

_"I have been a conspiritor so long that I mistrust all around me." - _Gamal Abdel Nasser

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><p>She descended down the creaky, dim steps into the hold. It was almost like immersing in water – the sound melted away, replaced by an elusively spicy scent that tickled the inside of her nose. The darkness was punctuated every so often by a digital globe of light hanging in a sconce on the wall, and the hallways were narrow and cramped. Several hallways branched off, but at the end of the hallway was a large room, with more of that thick, spicy scent. She heard a rumble of laughter coming from inside it, and as she approached, she saw the homey yellow glow of a fire. A real fire, not a digital one – a rare thing in this day and age.<p>

The kitchen she found herself in would have been spacious if not for all the clutter. A brazier in the middle of the room held a huge black pot suspended over the flames, a broth bubbling away inside it. Pots and pans clung to the walls, and barrels of foodstuffs took up one half of the room. A barrel of glossy, shiny purps were stacked invitingly next to a dented metal stove, and she saw that there were crates of vegetables standing sentry near the scarred black pot. Ropes of spices and herbs hung from the ceiling, perfuming the air with a subtle cacophony of smells and aromas. Mr. Arrow was standing stiffly near the door, and she nearly bumped into him as she entered. Delbert and Jim were hovering cautiously around the large black pot in the middle of the room, and Rose came up behind them. She stopped suddenly, mouth slightly open as she stared at the hulk of a man in front of her.

He was tall and _broad_. Broad shoulders, waist, thighs, and hands. A dingy white tunic was rolled halfheartedly to the elbow, exposing a pair of thick, tanned forearms. He seemed rough and a little unpolished, but his face seemed pleasant enough. His features were blunt and roguish, and from this angle he seemed an exceptionally large human being. But when he turned, his chiseled brow raised, she saw he was more machine that man. His right leg, arm, ear, and eye had been replaced by intricate machinery that continually whirred and clicked quietly in the background. His right eye was mechanical, and it scanned her with a rather knowing golden twinkle that she simultaneously liked and hated. He grinned, exposing a gold tooth, and he bowed dramatically. "Why, Doc, yeh didn't say yeh brought a lady wit' yeh!" He bellowed, his voice layered thickly with a pirate brogue. His voice was a deep chocolate rumble, his namesake etched into gravel. "Ida tucked in me shirt!"

"She's my sister," Jim said aggressively, suddenly feeling protective. He didn't like the way that cyborg was looking at her. It was almost ... cold. And calculating. "Rose. Rose, this is Silver."

Rose suddenly felt her hand swallowed by a calloused palm easily the size of a catcher's mitt, but his grip was gentle. "Aye, pleased as anythin' teh meet yeh, lass."

"Likewise," she said, swallowing. He made her nervous. Everything made her nervous, but this man was _huge._ The sheer size of him was enough to set anybody on edge. And coupled with the fact that he was a _machine _made it even worse. Silver caught her wary glance to his cybernetic arm.

"Ah, naow, don't be too put off by t'is hunk o' hardware," he said, limping over to one of the counters and plucking several stalks of vegetables from the ceiling and slicing them thinly. His mechanical hand cleverly changed from a cybernetic hand to a cleaver, and he began tossing items into the soup pot. Several pinches of spices and a few sprays from overly ripe purps had the whole kitchen smelling insanely delicious, and Rose felt her mouth watering in spite of herself. "'Ere, naow, have a taste of me famous Bonzabeast stew," Silver said, ladling three portions of stew into bowls. Rose cupped the wooden vessel in her hands and breathed in the fragrant aroma. Delbert lapped curiously at the stew and looked thoughtful.

"Hmm. Delightfully tangy, yet robust. I detect a hint of solara seed?" He said, smacking his lips. Silver turned away from him, a little smirk curving the corner of his mouth.

"Ole family recipe," he said sagely.

Delbert yelped as an eyeball suddenly surfaced in his stew. "Ahh!"

"And t'at was part o' teh old family!" Silver said and laughed. His laughter was a lion's growl, rumbling up from his chest in a thunder as he slapped Delbert on the back. "I'm on'y kiddin', Doc," He assured him, snatching the eyeball out of the stew with surprisingly deft fingers. "I'm nothin' if I ain't a kidder."

He caught Rose's eyes for the first time and noticed they were round brown orbs, dark in color but with hundreds of tiny sparkles that caught the light and reflected a subtle gold undertone. They were fringed thickly with dark lashes, and she narrowed her eyes, creases appearing between her slender brows, as he evaluated her. She was nervous and apprehensive, untrusting. Not nearly as bad as the boy, however. The boy was giving him the surliest look he had seen on a lad since Silver himself had been a nipper. There was something distinctly off with both of them, and he planned to find out what. "Go on, lad, have a swig," he told Jim, and Jim gave him a glare. Hesitantly, Jim scooped a spoonful of stew and raised it to eye level, examining it dubiously.

The spoon changed into a fat pink blob who was munching on his spoonful of stew. With a little cry of surprise, Jim dropped his spoon, only to have it wholly morph into a pink blob of proton which swam through the air. Two large white-and-black eyes blinked cheerily at him, and he swirled into a miniature Jim as easily as one would blink. "Morph! So t'at's where you was hidin'!" Silver said, and the pink blob cuddled up to his cheek.

"What is that thing?" Jim asked, intrigued in spite of himself. Morph flew circles around his owner and chirruped happily.

"'E's a morph," Silver explained as the pink creature began eating the remainder of Jim's stew. "I found teh little blighter on Proteus One. We've been together ever since, right Morphy?"

He noticed the girl watching him with detached amusement, a little smile teasing the corner of her mouth. She really was quite pretty, if a bit plain, with a short, rounded figure and a heart-shaped face. The similarities between herself and her younger brother were miniscule, but he wasn't surprised to see they were related. There was something about the way their eyes glanced at you sideways, an unsure look that lit their hearts.

None of them trusted each other.

Mr. Arrow cleared his throat. "Would you like to observe the watch, Doctor?" He asked officially. Delbert, who had only recently recovered from his eyeball scare, perked up instantly.

"Would I? Does an active galactic nucleus have superluminal jets?" He asked. Arrow raised his gravelly brow. "Ah, um, I'll follow you," Delbert said sheepishly, following Arrow up the stairs. The First Mate turned as he left. "Mister Silver, the captain would like a word with you later. In the meantime, see to it that your new cabin boy is kept busy."

"What?" Silver said, dropping the ladleful of stew he had been tasting.

"You can't!" Jim protested.

"Captain's orders!" Arrow barked. "Keep a close eye on him, Mister Silver." Arrow glanced at Rose. "Are you joining us, Miss Hawkins?"

There was no mistaking the little quiver of fear that shook Rose, and Silver picked up on it. "N-no," Rose said, a little too quickly. "I think I'll stay down here with James."

For a long while, there was nothing but the creak of the ship and the faraway sounds of aliens casting off. Then, Silver spoke up. "So, Cap'n's stuck yeh wit' me, eh?"

"Guess so," Jim said, eyeing Silver closely. He meandered over to the purp barrel and withdrew one thoughtfully. Silver shrugged and pushed up his sleeves a little farther, immersing his large hands in a pile of soapy dishes. Rose noticed with a little flare of familiarity that there was a dishwasher in the corner, but Silver also chose not to use it.

"Well, who be a humble cyborg teh argue wit' a cap'n?" Silver said with a shrug. Jim watched him closely, circling the kitchen restlessly.

"Y'know, these purps are kinda like the ones back home...On Montressor," he said, stressing the last word. He watched Silver's wide back closely for any signs of recognition. "Ever been there?"

"Eh, can't say I 'ave, Jimbo," Silver said, easily overstepping the boy's clumsy interrogation. Inwardly he was fuming and his mind was going haywire. What did the boy know? He was acting so suspiciously...Rumors had it that he had been the one to find the map. Had that damned Bones said something to him?

"Come to think of it, there was this guy..." Jim said, taking a bite of purp. He almost spat it out, surprised at the taste. It was _nothing_ like the purps back on Montressor – those had been sweet and mellow. These were bitingly sharp and acidic, but tantalizingly tasty in the very back of his throat. He took another bite, and then wiped his mouth. "He was, uh, kinda looking for this cyborg buddy of his."

Rose made a face at Jim. She had no idea what he was doing, but he was probing at the old seadog, and no doubt making him uncomfortable. "James, there are a thousand, um, cyborgs out there," she said, tripping over the word _cyborgs_. She evidently had never said the word before.

"Yer sister's right, lad," Silver said with an easygoing chuckle. "There's a slew o' cyborgs roamin' t'is port!" He hesitated for a split second, and then took a gamble. "Fer fancy's sake, w'at was yer friend's name?"

"What was his name...?" Jim said with mock concentration, kneading his forehead with the remains of his purp. "Oh yeah," he said unconvincingly. "Bones. Billy Bones."

"Bones? Bones?" Silver said, cocking a brow. "T'aint ringin' any bells. Ah, off wit' yeh lad, an' watch teh launch." He said, pushing Jim out the door. He waited until the boy had left, and then turned to Rose, who was still standing there, watching him. "Still 'ere, lass?"

She looked at him very queerly for a moment, her rosebud mouth downturned and her eyes quiet. "I'm sorry," she said, and then fled the kitchens. For a long moment Silver just stood there, trying to figure out what she meant.

What the devil was she sorry about?

He stroked Morph, and then fed him a piece of Bonzabeast haunch. "We best be keepin' a sharp eye on t'em, eh Morph? We don't want 'em strayin' intah things t'ey shouldn't."

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the short chapter! My brain is flatlining right now...But anyway, tell me what you think!**

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><p><strong>~Special Thanks~<strong>

**Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGirl:** Here you go! :)

**katamis: **Well, you'll have to wait and see! Although, wouldn't it be nice to have Silver be the knight in shining armor? ;)

**TMNTdisneyfan2013: **Yeah, Amelia and Arrow came off to me a bit cold in the first part of the movie. Still, this will be rectified in later chapters, when Amelia's and Rose's relationship deepens.

**KaseyKay10: **WOW! I am so honored to be your FIRST EVER Treasure Plant fanfiction! Hopefully you'll stick around with us for a while longer!


	5. Chapter 5: Rescue

**Title: Pirate Law**

**Chapter Words: 3,809**

**Rating: T For Violence, Some Language, and Eventual Romance**

**Disclaimer: Me no own. You no sue.**

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><p><strong>~Chapter Five: Rescue~<strong>

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><p><em>"Sometimes what we call love is just a settling of old scores, or a seeking of forbidden pain, or a circuitous path to the kingdom of cruelty, or she may simply have confused lack of capital with heroism while searching for rescue without knowing from what." - <em>Ane Roiphe

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><p>"All hands to stations!"<p>

As Rose emerged on the deck, she was suddenly brushed past by a swarm of alien crewmates, all of them scurrying busily towards their destinations around the ship. They were rather uncouth looking specimens, and Rose backed away hurriedly from the ragged spacers. Jim was making his way over to the railing, and Rose followed him quickly. "James! James, wait for me!" She called out, trying to get over to her younger brother without stepping on anybody's fins or tentacles. Jim glanced over his shoulder at his sister, and rolled his eyes. She looked frightened at the idea of the ship actually _leaving_ – but the action was exhilarating for Jim, who leaned over the railing to take a last look at the docks. Rose clung to the side of the ship, sensibly short nails digging into the wood as she tensed, muscles going taut as the ship shuddered under the weight of moving spacers.

"Loose all solar sails!" Mr. Arrow shouted importantly. He was standing in a stiff pose near the bow of the ship, with the Captain and Delbert by him. Amelia actually looked slightly more relaxed now that they were leaving, and there was a contented smile on her feline features, making her large green eyes seem a little warmer. In the rigging, the aliens who were stationed there began unraveling long loops of thick rope, allowing the glassy sails to hang limply at the mast. Not for long, however, for the cool breeze from the Etheirum began to fill the sails, making them shimmer and dance in the midmorning sunlight. The sails were of a curious construction – the tiny beads of solar-sensitive scales lining the cloth enabled it to catch energy and heat, creating both fuel and warmth for the crew and the ship. Along the main mast, a large meter registered the power left in the solar-sails, and at the moment, they were at maximum capacity.

As the winds began to buffet the sails to full attention, Rose felt a strange sensation sweep her body. It was an eerie sense of weightlessness, and to her horror, she found herself floating a few inches off the deck. She cried out a little, arms waving to try and catch something solid, and Jim saw her panic in her round brown eyes. Jim, on the other hand, was laughing a little as he floated a little higher. "Mr. Snuff! Engage artificial gravity!" Amelia shouted, and Rose saw a purple shimmer pass over the wooden planks of the ship. She tumbled to the ground, landing face-first in a rather inelegant fashion, and she sat up, rubbing her nose. Jim, with his usual quick reflexes, had righted himself at the last moment and landed on his knees and palms like a cat. He winked at Rose – he seemed to be in an unnaturally good mood. Delbert, on the other hand, had landed with just as little finesse as Rose had, and was currently attracting a few rude sniggers from the spacers. The fine purple sheen remained on the decks, a barely visible field of electricity tethering them to the ground and not to the clouds.

Rose staggered over to the railing and made the mistake of glancing over. She nearly threw up – they were a good two hundred feet above the ground, and the docks were rapidly shrinking to the size of toothpicks. Jim grinned, waving dramatically at the vanishing Spaceport. He felt as though he were leaving his old self behind, much as a snake sheds his skin. He would come back to this place richer than a king, with enough money to solve all of his problems and rebuild the Benbow with the surplus. But these thoughts were driven from his head when he heard Amelia's crisp order to Delbert. "Brace yourself, Doctor," Amelia advised, and Jim dropped to his knees, digging his fingers into the railing. Rose cocked her head and looked at him curiously; Jim opened his mouth to warn her of Amelia's order, but it was too late – the ship took off like a stone from a sling, spinning out into space. Rose, of course, was thrown backwards forcibly and landed, once again, in a heap. She picked herself out of the pile of rope she had landed in and stood up, straightening her skirt. Her braid was mussed and her boots were scuffed, but everybody was cheering at having left Montressor Spaceport.

Jim climbed hand over hand into the shrouds, swinging himself around, and drinking in the sights of space. It was a beautiful thing – everything as far as the eye could see was inky black, swirled majestically with deep purples and blushed with pink, stars sprinkling the galaxies around him. The light seemed low and shadows were long and stretchy, and there was a dim purple glow to everything. Blue clouds misted his face, dampening his dark bangs to wet peaks in his face, and he laughed aloud. A shoal of gigantic creatures, their bodies slick with the spray of the Etheirum, swam lazily overhead. They were easily twice the size of the ship, and their eyes were large and gentle. Jim reached out, his fingers barely skimming the raw sinew underneath the wet hide. Already the Spaceport was a distant memory, nothing but a dull yellow curve in the sky behind them. Jim was fascinated with looking down – there were stars everywhere, distant planets twinkling away in the distance.

The ship had a swaying, side to side motion that was churning Rose's stomach. She nearly lost her breakfast at the sight of the shoal of Orcus's, or sea-whales, but they seemed passive enough, and only mildly curious. Rose was finding it difficult to walk properly – she had to adjust her weight with each step, as though walking in a gale, and found herself tilting to one side despite her best efforts. With some difficulty, she climbed up the steps and reached the bow deck where Amelia was standing. Amelia arched one eyebrow regally and allowed a small smile to curve her mouth. "A bit startling to set off at first, but within a week you'll be right as rain," Amelia told her. Rose nodded once, weakly, and gulped.

"I'll take your word for it." She said, and gripped the rail with force enough to make her knuckles whiten. Amelia glanced at her and scanned the disheveled look on Rose's face.

"You might want to sit down," Amelia advised. "You're dreadfully pale."

Rose waved one hand distractedly. "I'm all right," Rose lied, pressing her elbows to her queasy stomach to quiet it. "I just need a minute. I've never been – well, I've never been on a boat before," She admitted with a shy laugh. Amelia raised her slender eyebrows.

"A boat is a skiff, a dinghy, or a sloop," Amelia corrected her crisply. "This is a ship. The _R.L.S. Legacy_, and a fine craft to boot."

"Oh! I mean, well, yes," Rose sputtered, blushing furiously. "I'm sorry, Captain, I didn't mean to insult you or your, um, fine ship." She said, ducking her head a little. Amelia eyed her, and another rare smile broke out over her face.

"No worries, Miss Hawkins," Amelia said in her usual professional tone, although quite a bit of the frost had dropped from her tone. "You will learn a lot on this voyage, and emerge a better woman because of it."

This was interrupted by a shout from the deck below them. Rose leaned over and caught sight of Silver again, his mechanical limbs gleaming dully in the dim light of the Etheirum. He was wearing a stained, scarred, oilskin cloak which hugged his broad shoulders and fell importantly to his knees. He took off his tricorn had and bowed to the Captain. "Tis a gran' day fer sailin', Cap'n! An' look at yeh! Yer as trim an' as bonny as a ship wit' new sails an' a fresh coat o' paint!"

An automatic blush heated Rose's cheeks, even though the compliment was intended for the Captain, who didn't seemed fazed in the slightest. Leland and Sarah had never been very affectionate in front of her, and Luke had only bestowed awkward kisses and pets, so actual compliments from a man to a woman were a novelty for Rose. As Sarah might say, Rose was more than a little naïve. Amelia, on the other hand, had dropped an icy suit of armor over her features as quickly as a guillotine. "You can keep that kind of talk for your spaceport floozies, Silver," Amelia said tightly.

Silver assumed a humbled look as he smirked to his boots. "Yeh cuts me to teh quick, Cap'n. I speak nothin' but me heart at all times." Silver said easily. Rose was beginning to see that Silver had a bit of his namesake etched into his words. Not to mention his voice was almost as intimidating as his stature; A deep chocolate rumble, baritone voice gilded with granite and a silky layer of sweetness in his tone.

"And by the way, isn't that _your_ cabin boy aimlessly fooling about in those shrouds?" Amelia said pointedly, and Rose's thoughts were jerked to her younger brother. Jim was indeed seemingly aimless, simply leaning on the shrouds and gazing lovelorn at the Etheirum. Rose had seen that look on his face only twice before: once, when he got his first solar surfer, and another time when he developed a crush on a local patron of the Benbow for a few weeks. Silver seemed a little taken aback, and he made an impatient gesture.

"'Tis only a momentary aberration, Cap'n! Soon tah be addressed! Jimbo!" He called importantly, swaggering over to Jim. Rose sighed and looked at the Captain.

"I'd better go," She said. "Thank you for your time." She curtsied quickly, and wobbled over to the stairs. Amelia watched her go, and sighed to herself. The girl had a lot to learn about being on a ship before she could be left alone.

Jim was angrily jabbing a mob into a bucket of water when Rose reached the deck safely. Silver was making his way down to the galley, and caught sight of her. "Ahoy there, lass! Yeh best be givin' yer brother a hand, eh?" He shouted, causing Rose to lower her eyes and move a little quicker. He strode over to her, tilting his head to the side and gazing at her. "Yeh haven't got much of a space leg, do yeh, lass?" He noted. Rose took a scrubbing brush from Jim's hand and avoided Silver's gaze.

"I'll be fine," Rose said firmly. "I'm only a little –" Here her words were cut off by a gradual movement of the ship. The turning was controlled, but it nearly toppled Rose, who righted herself at the last instant. Now feeling like a complete idiot, she locked her jaw when Silver laughed at her. His laugh was as deep as his voice, a lion's growl edged with granite.

"A little lopsided, ain't yeh?" Silver added, and then slapped Jim on the back heartily. "Best be keepin' a sharp eye on t'is one, Jimbo." He said, and went off, whistling.

Amelia landed on the deck in front of Silver with a catlike snarl and an elegant pounce. She glared hard at him, her large green eyes narrowed. "Mr. Silver, I'd like a word with you in my stateroom," She said brusquely. "There is a quick matter I must discuss with you."

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><p>Rose and Jim scrubbed in silence, with Jim using the mop and Rose using the scrubbing brush. The crew had settled after the takeoff, and had now dissolved into groups, talking and muttering as they debated personal matters. More than once, Rose caught the most appalling language spewing from a spacer's lips over a jest or a slight quarrel, and mentally rolled her eyes. They were really a ludicrous parcel of driveling galoots, she told herself. And they all seemed to be suspicious of her and Jim. Jim had also noticed the spacer's odd behavior, and exchanged a glance with Rose. The two of them, united in their suspicion of the spacers, resumed scrubbing with a vigor. In a few moments, Rose was almost certain she heard a snide comment about her being said, and her brush faltered for a moment. She could feel the glare of a few spacers boring into her back as she continued to swab the deck.<p>

Jim picked up on the vein of the spacer's conversation, and noticed that they all seemed to be whispering together, a few of them glancing at Rose with a less than pleasant look in their eye. He shot an angry glare at them, and the conversation abruptly halted. One of them, a fat, purple alien with a small, tentacled head, glared back. "Whadda you lookin' at, weirdo?" It said. The head, in a rather disgusting turn of events, scuttled off its own shoulders and sat on the railing. A pair of eyes opened on the chest, and a line on the belly formed into a mouth. "Yeah. _Weirdo_." The belly agreed.

This one-sided conversation was interrupted by an ominous hissing noise from the shrouds. Jim and Rose looked up, and saw a large, crimson Spiden creeping slowly down the rigging. Spidens were a strange species, usually blue or red, with a thick armor surrounding their bodies which they shed every few years. They made excellent spacers, mostly because any surplus oxygen was stored in small glands on their back, enabling them to breathe for an inordinate amount of time underwater. This particular Spiden was rather ugly, with thick white fangs jutting from its muzzle, and lank gray hair surrounding it's bandanna. Jim thought he was pretty ugly, but Rose apparently felt more strongly, because she gave a little scream and clapped a hand to her mouth.

She screamed because the Spiden's eyes were the exact eyes she had seen in the Benbow, filled with hatred, in the ruins of the burning dining room. Those eyes had been branded into her memory – everything came back to her; the noise, the soot, the wild yells of pirates, the feel of her old book in her arms, Jim's hand gripping her wrist, the miraculous leap from the windowsill. She stepped back, a hand to her mouth.

The Spiden approached them, the bulbous yellow eyes glowing maliciously, red irises gleaming. "Cabin boysss ssshould learn to mind their own busssinesss." It hissed, stalking Jim. Rose's voice shrank to nothingness as her mind went into overdrive. She was so sure of those eyes – burning, hate-filled, terrifying. Jim glanced uncertainly at his sister, and then narrowed his eyes. He had faced worse bullies, and he felt a smirk sliding across his face.

"Why? You got something to hide, Bright Eyes?" Jim said mockingly. The Spiden's huge yellow eyes widened, and he seized a clawful of Jim's shirt, ripping it a little.

"Maybe yer earsss don't work ssso well!" The Spiden growled, bringing Jim up to eye level. Rose shot forward, her small hands batting out at the Spiden.

"Let him go!" She said firmly. "Put him down, you big bully!"

This, as Rose reflected later, was a seriously stupid move. The Spiden dropped Jim, who fell on the floor with a rather undignified thump, and instead snatched Rose by the blouse. The material was rather thin, and she felt the hard, smooth claw break through the blouse and press against her chest as the Spiden pinned her to the mast. "Ssso, wanted to play the hero, eh, girl?" The Spiden snarled. Jim, who was far more combative than his sister, kicked the Spiden in one of his armored legs. The Spiden kicked back without even looking at him, sending the young teen sprawling.

"You were in our house!" Rose spluttered, hands going to the armored claw, twisting and tugging in a vain attempt to be released. Instead, the tip of his claw began digging into her chest, right beneath her collarbones. "You burned it down – I went back for my book, I saw you! I remember you!"

This was lost under the excited shouts of spacers as they began to gather around the fight, but it fell on the Spiden's ears perfectly well. There was something like recognition in his gigantic yellow eyes – Rose saw it – and he flicked out his other claw, tilting her chin back and slamming her a little harder against the mast. "Any lassst words, girl?" The Spiden growled. Rose felt the claw dig deeper into her chest.

Jim was just about to lunge forward and attack the Spiden with everything he had in him, when he felt a large hand pushing him aside. The broad, thick-set shape of Silver passed in front of Jim, and the Spiden suddenly yelped as a mechanical hand clamped down on his claw. "Mister Scroop?" Silver said conversationally, holding a small purple purp in his hands. He kept his raging anger in check, resisting the urge to break through the stupid Spiden's armor and send him sprawling into the Etheirum. Out of all of Silver's mutineers, Scroop had the shortest temper, and therefore, the one Silver wanted to slap the most. "You ever see w'at 'appens to a purp when yeh squeeze _real hard_?" He barked, twisting Scroop's wrist.

Rose dropped to the deck in a heap for the third time in as many minutes. Scroop yelped, rubbing his injured claw, and he began to hiss something at Silver, when there was the authoritative voice of Arrow ringing out above everything. "What's all this, then?" He shouted, his granite face unfathomable. He looked down at Rose, whose cut was staining the front of her shirt crimson, and then at Scroop, who was growling at Silver. Jim had his fists cocked and a dazed look in his eyes, along with a chafe along the side of his face from being kicked by Scroop. "You know the rules – there will be no brawling on this ship. Mister Hawkins, see your sister to the galley and tend to her wound." Arrow locked eyes with Scroop. "There will be no further disputes on his voyage. Am I clear, Mister Scroop?"

Scroop caught the warning glow from Silver's mechanical eye, and dropped his voice. "Transparently." He hissed.

"Well done, Mister Arrow, sir!" Silver said, shooing off the spacers. "A tight ship's a happy ship, sir!" He turned to Jim, who was helping Rose to her feet. "Jimbo! I t'ought I told yeh tah keep an eye on yer sister!"

"Hey! I was, until that stupid bug thing grabbed me and –" Jim began.

"Belay that! I'll see yer sister to teh galley – meanwhile, _you_ keep scrubbin' teh decks!" Silver said. Rose waved him off, pressing a hand to the stinging cut. Her ringing headache was actually worse than her 'wound'.

"It's okay," She said, raising her voice a little. "It's not deep. I'll be fine. I just need a new shirt, that's all." She said pointedly, drawing herself up a little. Silver met her gaze, and saw a spark of defiance in those big brown orbs. He knew what she was doing – she was proving that, although she wasn't exactly a stellar spacer, she did have some guts to her.

His respect for her went up a fraction of a notch. "See to it t'at yeh do," He said, trying to sound gruff.

He went below decks to have a word with his crew.

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><p><strong>AN: I feel bad about ending it there, mostly because the scenes flow together so well in the movie, that it feels awkward just chopping it off. I really feel weird about Rose getting beat up by Scroop instead of Jim, but it would sort of make sense – she smaller, and a woman to boot. I'm trying as best I can not to make her a Mary Sue, but sometimes my writing skills just completely fail. Anyway, enjoy this chappie!**

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><p><strong>~Special Thanks~<strong>

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><p><strong>TMNTdisneyfan2013: <strong>Utterly astounding ... wow, that sounds really cool! I showed this to my roommate and she's like 'meh...I wouldn't say that'. So thank you very much!

**Kaitamis: ***bats eyes* Silver can always be my knight in shining armor, cheesy or not...*fangirly sigh*. And Scroop wouldn't be hitting on anyone...He's too despicable. xD

**Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGirl: **Just as an aside, why did you pick that kind of a penname? I've been meaning to ask you. I hope you like this chapter, BTW!

**iBrizzy: **OMG! OMG! OMG! Another Silver Fangirl! YAY! Why does Jim get all the fangirls? Silver totally deserves more than he has. I seriously almost had a seizure when I read your comment. I HAVE DIRTY THOUGHTS ABOUT SILVER TOO! YAY! (sorry...weirdness taking over)


	6. Chapter 6: Recognized

**~Chapter Six: Recognized~**

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><p>He descended the stairs, his irregular gait marking his steps to his crew, making them freeze. Captain John Silver was a fearsome man to behold even if you didn't know his reputation; his crew, on the other hand, knew his history of bloodshed that stretched back to his years of a teenager. Wherever Silver went, murder, kidnapping, and piracy always followed. The low murmurs died down like embers in a snow bank as Silver stepped into the berths in the belly of the ship, his hands clasped behind his back. His blunt features were shadowed by his tri-corn hat, but his earring glinted dully in the soft shafts of light that stroked the cramped room. Shadows stretched languidly around his massive form, and his cybernetic eye glowed briefly before he forced a determinedly pleasant look on his face The crew automatically turned to their leader, some of them forcing themselves to stop their knees from shaking. He truly was a man that struck fear into hearts. "So...we're all here, t'en." He said, his voice a low growl as he prowled lazily, his cybernetic eye glimmering orange as he glared at his crew. His rumbling baritone was determinedly low and gentle as he paced, making fierce eye contact with his mutineers. "Naow, if yeh'll pardon me plain speakin', gentlemen..." He drawled lazily, "Are yeh all..."<p>

His mechanical hand flipped into a scimitar and he brandished it, slicing a corner from Onus's hat. "...STARK RAVIN', TOTALLY BLINKIN' DAFT?" He roared, causing all of them to cower and hide behind their neighbor. "After all me finaglin' gettin' us hired as an upstandin' crew, yeh want tah blow the whole mutiny before it's time?" He snarled. He stopped in front of Scroop, narrowing his eyes as the Spiden glowered at him.

"The boy wasss sssniffing about," Scroop hissed. "And the girl sssaysss ssshe recognissses me. It would be ssssmarter to get rid of 'em both now!" Scroop found himself pinned to the wall by Silver's mechanical hand, and when the older pirate spoke, it was with a dangerous snarl in his voice.

"It's yer own fault if teh girl recognizes yeh. I won't 'ave t'is kinda talk aboard t'is ship. Any 'arm comes to teh boy, I'll 'ave yer heads on a platter, understand?" Silver growled. "An' as for teh girl, iffin I get so much as a whisper t'at she's been touched, yeh'll wish yeh hadn't been born! I'll keep an eye on 'em both, work 'em hard, keep 'em runnin' ragged. Yeh just stick to tah plan, yeh bug brained twit. Leave 'em both tah me."

He left with a swirl of his dark overcoat, limping upstairs onto the deck. He heard the murmurs of his two charges mopping the decks – well, technically, one charge, seeing as the girl wasn't assigned to him, per se. But the Captain, a feisty Felid who tolerated no nonsense whatsoever, had drawn him into her stateroom earlier and instructed him to keep a sharp eye on the girl. "She's a trusting little thing, and as such, she's in danger every time she sets foot on the deck." Amelia had told him. He had nodded and accepted the duty, but inwardly he was snarling to himself. Saddled with yet another duty! Not only did her have to keep the angry teenager out of his business, but he had to keep an eye on his naïve older sister! Not to mention he had a dissentious crew to keep in check, and a mutiny to plan. Muttering piquant oaths under his breath, he slammed his way into the galley and rubbed his temples.

A bloody dishrag on the counter caught his eye, and he scanned it quickly before picking it up in his large hand. It had a long strip torn from the side, and there were several long stripes of crimson cutting across the material. He brought it to his nose and sniffed, taking in the distinctive odor of rum soaking the rag. His mind flickered back to the injury the girl had sustained, and he swore again. She had obviously taken care of her own injury in a neat, quick manner, and he wondered idly if she had a healer's touch. Evidently she did, because he could hear her talking with her brother on the aft deck, and she seemed to be fairly healthy enough to work. He tossed the rag aside and shrugged off his overcoat, methodically cleaning up the kitchen while he sorted out his thoughts. After a while, his anger settled into a low simmer, and he was able to think clearly again.

The girl – what was her name again? He kept forgetting – seemed clear about staying on her own, and keeping out of other's way. She was a rather pretty girl, he thought to himself. A bit shy, and it came out in her stance and figure. Dark brown hair pulled back in a plait, brown eyes flecked with gold, two delicate brows arching over her soft brown eyes. She would make a pretty little housewife someday to someone, but he preferred brassier women. Someone with some fight to them, someone who knew how to stick up for themselves. He wiped down the counters carefully, pushing up his sleeves as he went along. His gaze roamed over the kitchen, and he picked up a pail of kitchen scraps which Morph wouldn't eat. He hauled them upstairs, up to the aft deck.

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><p>"I'm sorry."<p>

She hadn't heard Jim utter those words for what seemed like forever. He was proud and slightly arrogant, not willing to humble himself for the sake of others. But he fiddled with the braid at the back of his neck as he spoke to her, his big blue eyes downcast and his hand gripping the mop. "I shouldn't have picked a fight with that spider freak. He could've hurt you." He looked up at her then, and he saw a curious expression on Rose's face. Something like...pity? No, sympathy. And sadness. She shrugged a little and scrubbed a little harder, blowing an inconvenient strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Thanks. I'm okay, though," She admitted. "And it's a good thing Mister Silver stopped it. It might've gotten worse." She got to her feet, stretching the kinks out of her back and shoulders, and then sighed, rubbing her neck. "Look, Jim..." She trailed off. She wasn't quite sure how to put this. "We're going to be stuck with each other for a long time on this voyage. There won't be any running to Mom, or flying off on your solar surfer, or storming to our rooms. We have to be mature about this. Friends?" She asked, holding out a hand. Jim looked at her and shrugged, shaking her hand solemnly.

"Friends."

This was interrupted by the sound of Silver's deep, rich voice. "Well, t'ank 'eavens fer liddle miracles! Up 'ere for an hour an' tah deck's still on one piece." He slung a pail of kitchen scraps over the starboard side, and Jim twisted his braid around his finger. Silver felt the frustrated tension in the boy, and almost smiled to himself. The girl appeared to be studying him carefully, her dark eyes interested.

"Uh..." Jim said, and then cleared his throat, making his voice go a little deeper. "What happened earlier...Um. Thanks." He said awkwardly, turning away and beginning to mop again. Silver tilted his head to one side, seeing the angry line of the younger boy's shoulders, and something flickered in him. He had been that way once – a brash, angry boy, with nothing to lose and everything to gain. It created a desperate man, a man who clung to his ideals and shed his morals as fast as a snakeskin. Silver shook his head a little.

"Didn't yer Pap ever teach yeh to pick yer fights a bit more carefully?" He asked. When he did so, he felt, more than heard, an expelled breath between the teeth of the older girl. She turned away from him, disappearing into the shadows with the scrubbing brush. The boy, on the other hand, went rigid, his jaw locking angrily. Silver raised his brow. "Yer father not tah teachin' sort?" He asked. He knew the answer before he asked. _Absentee father...Another thing we have in common._

"No." Jim growled, the word bitten and sharp, picking a layer off his anger. "He was the 'taking-off-and-never-coming-back' sort." He leaned over the deck railing, peering down at the vast expanse of stars beneath them. An ocean of stars. Galaxies danced elusively beyond his fingertips. Silver came over and leaned against the railing with him, crossing his elbows in front of him, looking down at the jeweled display of glittering dots.

"Sorry, lad." He said. Both of them felt the tinge of genuine sympathy beneath his words. Jim hated it – he wasn't going to be pitied. It was one thing to receive sympathy from Rose; she had lost her father too, they had both gone through life not knowing when, where, or why he had left, assuming the blame on themselves.

"Hey, it's no big deal," He snapped, masking the bitterness beneath a cocky exterior. "I'm doing just fine."

"Is t'at so?" Silver mused. And then he mentally kicked himself – what was he doing? So they had both lost their fathers; that was no excuse. He cleared his throat gruffly. "Well, since tah captain put you in my charge, like it or not, I'll be poundin' a few skills intah t'at thick 'ead of yers tah keep yeh out of trouble."

"What?" Jim spluttered.

"From naow on, I'm not lettin' yeh out of me sight!" Silver said, a taskmaster grin curving one side of his mouth.

"You can't do-!" Jim began, but was cut off by Silver's ultimatum.

"Yeh won't so much as eat, sleep, or scratch yer bum without my say-so!" Silver said, slamming a fist into the side of the railing. Jim went taut, his shoulder squaring.

"Don't do me any favors!" He shouted back, and Silver put a comradely arm around his shoulders, almost mockingly, as he steered his young charge towards the steps.

"Yeh can be sure of t'at, my lad. Yeh can be sure of t'at." Silver chuckled, watching the boy storm off. There was quiet for a moment, and then he went back over to the railing. It wouldn't kill the boy to work hard – as a matter of fact, it would probably be the best thing for him. Working on a ship was a character builder; it just depends on what your character was, he decided. There's a very good chance he would have gone on musing about his past and life as a spacer, but he heard a small voice near his elbow.

"Don't work him too hard," She said, coming up tentatively next to him. He looked down at her, and he saw the biggest pair of brown eyes looking back at him. They were fringed with dark, thick lashes, and she had the look of a frightened doe, those golden facets reflecting the light of the Etheirum.

"Hard work never hurt anyone, lass," Silver reminded her, pulling his pipe out of his pocket. He flicked it aflame with the lighter in his opposite pocket, and then began to smoke. She looked back up at him, and he saw there was a spark of determination in her eyes.

"I know, but he's been through a lot." She said firmly. "And you have no idea how angry he is."

"I t'ink I do, lass," He said softly, looking back out into the stars. "I t'ink I do."

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><p><strong>AN: Sorry for the long wait! But here you go! Tell me what you think.**

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><p><strong>kaitamis: <strong>Lol, here you go!

**Day-Of-The-Dead-TattooGal:** Yeah, Scroop totally deserved his fate. Wait, seven? (blink) I have one on my lower back, and it hurt like _hell_, so I said no to any more. WOW. Seven?

**iBrizzy:** Yeah, I have a thing for the bad boys too. For instance, my roommate thinks I'm NUTS for liking Syndrome from the Incredibles, Severus Snape from Harry Potter, and Haymitch from the Hunger Games. Haymitch isn't a bad boy, per se, but he's definitely the character with the least amount of sex appeal. Anyway, I'm totally getting off track. xD

**WickedMockingbird: **Awww...Well, someone had to write a Silver/OC fic! The poor pirate doesn't get ANY lovin' on this fandom. Poor dear. I love him so. xD

**Black Wolf Silver Fang**: Yeah, Jim gets ALL of the fangirls, and it's kinda creepy. I mean, they have no taste at all if they don't like Silver. He's just...just...EPIC. xD


	7. Chapter 7: Just say 'Aye Captain'

**Title:** _Pirate Law_

**Rating: ****T For Violence, Language, Adult Themes, and Eventual Romance.**

**Author: **QuikkSilver

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><p>Rose was no stranger to hard work. She had grown up running an inn with her mother, after all, and managing the Benbow Inn was no easy task. It entailed a lot of mopping, washing, waitressing, and plenty of people-relations work. But here, on the <em>Legacy<em>, under the sharp eye of Silver, the work was backbreaking. Most of the work was pure drudgery – scrubbing pots and pans, scraping old paint off the mast, swabbing the decks, and other such things. But there were one or two special torments which had to be done, and unfortunately Jim was shackled to the worst one; scraping astrobarnacles off the hull. The position was precarious, straddling a swing and wielding a rusty crowbar, but you had to trust the gravitational pull on the ship, because the work required two hands to pry off the barnacles. Rose shuddered – Jim didn't share her fears, but she was terrified of heights. She pushed a curl of dark hair out of her eyes again and set her jaw, marshaling her aching shoulder to scrub more dried splatter off the decks. Since Jim was stuck with the bone-liquidizing chore of barnacle scraping, she had been instructed to scrub the entire deck by herself. It was hard enough with two people, but all alone, the work seemed to take eons. Her shoulders and back were numb and painfully sensitive to the cool breeze from the Etheirum, but she kept washing. With any luck, she would be given an easy task next, like washing the pans in the kitchen.

She could feel Amelia's eyes on her as she worked. There always seemed to be someone watching her, be it the captain, Delbert, or her younger brother. There were different feelings accompanying their gazes; she could feel Amelia's cool, crisp glances sliding over her skin like a fresh zephyr, and Delbert's awkward stares like a woolen scarf. Jim's eyes always felt settled and familiar, and so recognizable that Rose didn't have to glance up to see who was watching her. They all seemed set to keep an eye on her, and part of her felt babied and annoyed; she wasn't a child, she was a grown woman capable of fending for herself. But at the same time, she was grateful; the very real prospect of being attacked onboard had occurred to her more than once, and it always sent a new icy touch down her spine.

For some reason, Silver seemed to be avoiding her. Jim had confided in her last night and reported that the captain had ordered him to keep an eye one her. "And he didn't seem too happy about it, either," Jim had said ruefully. But she hardly saw the big man during the day – she only saw him while he was cooking, or at night when it was his turn for the watch. He never spoke to her, never made eye contact, and whenever she was around him, he was gruff and brusque. It was a fairly happy arrangement in her opinion, however. His machinery was still foreign and frightening to her, and she tried not to stare at it when she saw him. He seemed to sense this, and perhaps that was the reason she avoided her.

Rose sighed and got to her knees, kneading the flesh on her shoulders and neck. She was nearly done, but every bone and muscle in her body was begging for release, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out as she resumed her duties. With an exhausted, incoherent noise in her throat, she tossed the dredges of soapy water onto the floors and began washing with her scrubbing brush, the stiff gray bristles scraping across the sleek, honey-brown floors. Her hair was pinned up in a knot at the base of her neck, but it was falling out and curtaining her eyes with an annoying little fringe of chestnut. She wiped her hair out of her eyes with a soapy hand, unconsciously smearing a streak of water across her round cheek and dampening her chin. Grumbling to herself, she nuzzled her shoulder to remove the liquid.

Silver watched her out of the corner of his eyes, trying to look focused on the young boy below him. His young charge, Jim, was furiously scraping off the barnacles on the hull with his clumsy tool. Inwardly, Silver felt a little pang of remorse. He didn't tell the lad that it was a job generally reserved for the biggest and brawniest of the crew, not a youthful boy who hadn't even begun to shave yet. But he turned away from the taut-shouldered, scowling youth and flicked another gaze towards his older, quieter sister. Now, _that_ was a little workhorse, there. She had been scrubbing the deck all day, and not a word out of her, not a peep. She had paused several times during her work and jostled blood into her shoulders and back, but other than that she worked steadily all day. And it wasn't just today – she was methodical and decisive with her chores, getting them done simply and uncreatively. Jimbo, on the other hand, was a loose cannon; if he thought there was an easier way to do it, he would rig it up without a second thought. Once he even tried to teach Morph how to wash dishes, but only managed to get two plates broken.

Not for the first time, he noticed her tendency to tuck her hair out of her eyes while she worked. It was an insignificant, habitable gesture which did nothing to tame the little curls around her chocolate eyes, and for some reason it fascinated him. Perhaps it was the way her wrist turned just so, exposing her innocent inner wrist, or perhaps it was that momentary pout that tugged at her bottom lip when she fixed her hair. He looked away from her suddenly, realizing where his thoughts were going. They would be pulling into port tomorrow, he reminded himself. Irisosa, located in the Kerriyan Abyss, was their next stop; he promised himself he would go straight out and find him a girl for the night. Unlike the rest of the crew, he knew when to keep his desires in check and when to expel them.

She got to her feet, snapping the joints in her shoulders with a pained grimace. That was enough, the deck was done, and she was out of soapy water. She wrung out her rag and slapped her scrubbing brush briskly against her palm to get rid of any clinging remnants of water, then dumped both tools into the bucket. She tossed them haphazardly into the small tool shed located near the stairs, then dipped her head to enter the galley. The coolness of the shadowed galley hit her, cutting off the glaring light from the deck, and she rubbed her eyes, blinking the stars from her vision. She walked right into something and let out a little squeak, looking up into the piercing, bloodshot eyes of Scroop. "Oh! Sorry," She said, backing up.

He moved like a cobra – one moment she was at the foot of the stairs, the next moment she was up against the wall, both hands pinned to the side of her head. "I would keep my eyessss open from now on, missssy," Scroop hissed, very close to her. Her mind was still reeling from the suddenness of his action, and she turned her head to the side, shutting her eyes tightly. "I would ssstay out of my way, little girl," Scroop snarled, his ridged, sharp claws digging into her wrists. A hot tear blurred her eyes and she choked on her own fear rising in her throat. "Becaussse, when I see you again..." Scroop warned, and his fangs scraped against her jaw, two daggers sketching against her cheek.

He released her, and she fell to the floor, landing with a crash, unable to keep any feeling in her legs as a hot flush of shame and fear sweep her body. Scroop scuttled outside, his long legs stamping on the stairs as he left. Her whole body was frayed, nervous, jittery. Her knee jiggled and tears spilled out of her eyes, dripping off her chin, the unwanted dampness glittering on her face. Fear lodged in her throat, and she swallowed back a sob of terror. The slight feeling of security she had been given when she saw Amelia watching her was stripped away, and she felt raw, naked. All over again, she felt his hands on her – Luke's rough, clumsy hands patting her harshly, his fist connecting with her eye, that bright, coppery tang of blood in her mouth.

She heard him far before she saw him – a steady, regular whirring, humming noise that contradicted his irregular, limping gait. And then she smelled him – a low, primal whiff of something undeniably musky and masculine. However, she didn't put two and two together until she heard his deep, rumbling voice speak. "An' what do yeh t'ink yer doin', layin' about on t'ah floor?" He growled, staring down at her. She shot to her feet, wiping her eyes hurriedly, not daring to look him in the eye. She heard Luke's syrupy voice slide over her again, the quiet, smiling threats made to her while their parents chatted not five feet away.

"Nothing," She said, her voice weak and quivery. "I'm sorry, I needed to get out of the sun."

She wasn't stupid. She knew she needed protection. Not for the first time, she looked up at him, scanning his wide girth and broad chest, his sloping shoulders and blunt features. But at the same time, she couldn't tell him anything. She needed to see Amelia. "I need to see the Captain," She mumbled. "I'll be right back."

He watched her go, her small feet hammering up the steps of the galley, her footsteps uneven and frantic. His eyes narrowed, and he folded his arms across his chest. She was hiding something, something fresh and uncertain. He followed her up out of the galley and his cybernetic eye glinted as he saw the door to the Captain's Quarter's slam shut. He looked around, and his eye fell on Scroop, who was wearing an undeniably smug expression. Slowly, his jaw locked as his mind made the connections, and he bulled his way over to Scroop.

* * *

><p>Her voice tumbled over itself as she spilled out the entire story, her words rapid and almost unintelligible. Amelia said nothing during the entire short narrative, merely looked at her closely and kept her lips pressed together firmly. Rose took comfort in the crisp, clean lines of Amelia's uniform, the neatly pressed blue coat and highly buffed boots. Rose buried her face in her hands and sat down in Amelia's chair. "I'm sorry," She said finally, after a moment of silence. "I'm just...I don't have a great – well, relationship with men. I don't..." She looked helplessly at Amelia. "I mean...I'm explaining this badly. I was in this relationship, earlier, with a boy, and it...ended badly."<p>

"Miss Hawkins, this is irrelevant," the Captain said quietly. Her green eyes were bright and alert, and her long, sharp nails tapped on the polished desk. "I'm sorry, Miss Hawkins, but I have no choice but to assign you a guard." She said softly. "Yes, I'm afraid there isn't any other option. Mr. Arrow would suit the role, I believe."

"Um..." Rose said. "Thank you, Ma'am. But I don't think that's necessary. I mean, I'll be fine, I'll just stay nearer to my brother and –"

"I do not mean any insult to your younger brother, but he is a fifteen year old boy," the Captain said tartly. "No, I really think Mr. Arrow would be best. Or..." And then her eyes took on a whole new light, a glossy sheen that sparkled. "Miss Rose, I believe I have someone better than Mr. Arrow." She said, and pressed a button on her desk.

In the galley, a red light beeped twice, and Silver turned. His discussion with Scroop had left the Spiden bruised and angry, and the last thing he needed was an audience with the snooty captain. Swearing under his breath, he snatched his hat from the table and limped up the galley stairs, taking them two at a time. Shouldering his way through the crowd, he barged into the Captain's Quarters, trying to appear willing and able to serve the Captain's any needs. He exhaled slightly when he saw the small shape of Rose sitting nervously on Amelia's chair. Of course the girl would run and squeal to the Captain. "Aye, Captain?" He said, trying to seem as though he had no idea what was going on. Amelia circled the desk slowly as she steepeled her long fingers.

"Mr. Silver, you are aware the dangers of a woman aboard a ship in space, correct?" Amelia said. Silver shrugged. There wasn't any point denying it.

"Aye, Captain," He said, looking at Rose. She was still sniffling quietly, and a premonition began to sneak up on him. A single instance like this wouldn't have upset her this much; no, she had previous experience with this. His mind shot to her father, and he gritted his teeth.

"Then you won't have any trouble giving Miss Hawkins your undivided guardianship and protection," Amelia said reasonably. Silver jerked.

"Captain, I got me own t'ings tah deal wit'!" He sputtered. "I already got me one cabin boy I don't need, an' it's hard enough tryin' tah find him chores tah do!"

"Mister Silver, there is no need to dispute this," the Captain said tightly. "You will guard Miss Rose, and if you notice, I didn't mention giving her any chores. Of course, if you have a need for her to assist you in cooking, or whatnot, I'm sure Miss Rose would be happy to oblige." Amelia looked at Rose, and the girl nodded once, uncertainly. Silver closed his eyes briefly, and counted to ten.

"Aye, Captain."

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><p>She caught up with him after they had left, and her small hand found his elbow, somehow, giving him a brief touch. "Uh, Mr. Silver?" She said softly. He looked at her, raising an eyebrow. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a bother, but..." He looked at her, those dark chocolate eyes filled with a deep uncertainty. "I'm frightened," She admitted, and looked straight at him. "I'm frightened, but I can manage it. I don't want you going out of your way to 'keep me safe', as it were."<p>

"It doesn't look like we don't 'ave much o' a choice," Silver said tightly. "An' yeh can be damn certain I don't need yer help with me cookin'! You'll be doin' the same chores as yeh have been." Silver snapped. Rose backed away, hurt, and he saw it in the drop in her shoulders. She went down the stairs to the lower deck, avoiding the crew members like the plague.

Amelia watched Silver rub the back of his neck, and she growled to herself, the fur on the back of her neck rising in spite of herself. He was planning something, there was no doubt about that – she hoped that placing Rose in the presence of this man would either bring out his true nature or Rose would bring back some information about him. She had acted remarkably quickly, and Amelia planned to take disciplinary actions towards Scroop, but right now she needed to see how to two reacted. When she saw the two of them clash, she sighed and buried her face in her hands. Rose was small and weak, but she had a quick eye for detail and Amelia had no doubt that Rose would pick up on Silver's nature. But Amelia saw the little glances Silver kept flicking towards her, and she knew this situation could get messy very quickly.

Because, even if Miss Hawkins didn't realize it, Silver was, deep down, beginning to fall for her.

Slightly.

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><p><strong>AN: Enjoy. I'm exhausted. Merry Christmas to all. .**


	8. Chapter 8: Fight And Flight

**Title: **_Pirate Law_

**Rating: **T for Mild Language, Action Sequences, Eventual Romance, and Suggestive Elements

**Word Count: **2,898

**Pairing: **Silver/OC

**Summary: **_Rose always tried to follow the rules – all of the rules. Following the rules when you're searching for treasure is difficult, however, and even more difficult when you have strange emotions about a gruff cyborg going through your mind. To top it all off, she has to take care of her scamp of a younger brother, Jim Hawkins. Could things _possibly_ get any worse?_

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><p>He cuffed his dark brown hair from his eyes and glowered at the retreating shape of Silver and Rose. The pile of dishes was unbelievable, and Silver had ordered him to have everything spic and span by the time he came back. Jim was still fuming over the injustice of it all; he was one of the only ones left on the <em>Legacy<em>, seeing as almost everyone else was going onto the planet of Irisosa for leisure and to stock up supplies. Rose had looked delighted to step on land again, but Silver had an expression on his face akin to one facing a firing squad. Rumors had been floating around the ship that he was now the "guardian" of Rose, due to some unnamed incident which had landed Scroop in the brig for two days, feasting on his own insults and nothing else. Silver refused to talk about it, but Jim had noticed that Rose was sticking uncommonly close to either the captain, himself, or Delbert, and avoiding Silver at all costs. This arrangement seemed fine to Jim and Silver, but apparently the captain wasn't pleased.

Rose inhaled the peculiar smell which seemed to be flirting around her senses – a mixture of spices, rainwater, and thick fog was assaulting her nose. Amelia had given her a lecture last night about the delicacy of landing on Irisosa, the capitol of the Kerriyan Abyss, and Rose had lapped it up. It was quite difficult to land because of the thick shrouding of mist which always clung to the planet, and the sun was old and feeble, resulting in a damp, raw feeling to the whole place. But it was wonderfully fresh, and even though the solid deck beneath her feet felt unsteady and wobbly, she still thanked whatever gods were listening that she was off of the ship. Amelia's lessons were highly appreciated by Rose, and the _Legacy_ was a fine ship, but Rose held space itself in high disdain. Her father had left the family for space, leaving them without a second glance behind, and she held the glittering expanse of jeweled skies personally responsible for tearing her family apart.

She stumbled slightly when the deck ended and the hard road began, and Silver's quick gaze noticed this. He felt the relief coming off her in waves – Why did the girl hate space so much? – and already the mist was dampening her hair. Gray droplets misted her eyelashes and the little fringe of dark chestnut bangs around her eyes, and he looked away quickly. Mentally, he swore and his mechanical hand made a fist. He couldn't afford to let her roam Irisosa alone – the captain would skin him alive, and he _did_ have somewhat of a conscience, despite what his crew thought. Cutting her loose or giving her the slip would leave her alone and without support, easy prey to any thieves, rapists, or bandits just waiting to pounce on an innocent looking girl. He rubbed the back of his neck and was about to tell her what they needed to secure at the marketplace when he heard her quiet voice pipe up next to him.

"Mr. Silver, thank you for escorting me off the ship, but I believe I can take it from here," Rose said. She intended to double back and see if she could go sneak Jim off the ship, and maybe the two of them could go find someplace to have some fun. Silver laughed sarcastically – his normal rumbling laugh had a dark bite to it, and she felt herself tense.

"Yeh can't actually be askin' me tah let a young nipper like yerself run loose on Irisosa," He snorted.

She stopped, and folded her arms, turning fully to face him. She was so short and petite that her defiant stance looked more adorable than imposing, and she saw the condescension in his eyes. "Despite what you and the captain may think, I'm not a helpless little girl." She said firmly, resisting the childish urge to stamp her foot.

"Oh? So w'at was the run-in wit' Scroop? Yeh didn't look very tough down t'ere in tah Captain's Quarters." He said, raising an eyebrow. She flushed scarlet and pressed her lips tightly together.

"It's not..." She began, and then the words fumbled over themselves in her mouth. This was what she hated about herself! She could never speak when she wanted to, and he was looking at her _so_ pityingly, and her temper was beginning to spark against her will. "When it comes to things like that, I just...just freeze. I can't – I mean, I'm not _weak_. It's got nothing to do with strength, it's just – fight or flight, I suppose." She threw up her hands exasperatedly. "Just never mind! I'm fine on my own, Mr. Silver, and if you think I'm such a child that you need to babysit me, then you're mistaken."

"Lass, yeh know tah captain would 'ave me head if I let yeh run off on yer own," Silver said, and some of the pity dropped from his voice. "C'mon. We 'ave a slew o' t'ings tah get at tah market." When she stayed rock still with that frustrated, determined look on her face, he almost laughed again. If she only knew how stubborn she looked right now, and part of him wanted to smack her. "Iffin yeh don't follow me in foive seconds, yeh'll be scrubbin' dishes on the ship wit' yer brother."

She threw him another angry look and then followed him grudgingly. She wanted to go back on the ship, but she also wanted to explore. Rose wasn't naturally curious, but she had been cooped up on the shrinking-by-the-day _Legacy_ for so long that new sights to see sounded wonderful. After a moment or two of feuding with herself, she noticed Silver's peculiar swagger. He had a languid, easy grace as he walked down the street, his hands in his pockets, the sleeve of his oilskin coat drawn over his cybernetic arm, his tricorn hat tipped over his face. He had a rugged, lounging look to him, perfectly at ease in his foreign surroundings, and for a split second she thought he was handsome. Certainly he was imposing, with his wide back and broad chest, muscular build and intricate machinery, but he was _not_ her type. He was too...rough. Uncouth. There might have been a good man in him once, but she had a feeling that any sense of chivalry or genteelness had been sharpened off, honing himself into a blade of formidable size and strength.

But, she told herself, he was certainly _not_ her type.

09

Jim wiped his hands off on the rag and glanced around at the kitchen. It was _mostly_ done – the counters still needed to be wiped down, and the stove needed to have the fresh layer of grunge scraped off. But he figured that he needed a break. The only other person on the ship was that weird alien, Oxy and Moron, who he always counted as one person despite their separate bodies. He peeked around the corner, looking for the purple alien, and then listened. Rose had once taught him that listening before acting was one of the best tools a sneaker had. Actually, Rose had been a lot of fun before his father had left, he mused to himself. They had been a pair of miscreants, with Jim getting into trouble and Rose lying through her teeth to get him out of it. However, the day Leland had left marked a full turnaround for Rose – she refused to participate in any mischief of any kind, and had become really uptight about it.

Rolling his eyes, Jim crept across the deck, feeling oddly exposed and a little silly for being so quiet aboard such a large, empty ship, but he didn't want to disturb Oxy and Moron. However, when he heard the thick, raspy snores of two drunken sailors in a near-comatose state, he breathed a little easier. Wincing at the creaks in the steps, he descended the stairs to the belly of the ship and the exposure hatch. The exposure hatch was where they kept the two skiffs, usually used for scouting out unknown planets before landing there, or to simply take out and enjoy. And Jim planned to enjoy the latter quite thoroughly.

He hadn't been on his solar surfer in several weeks, ever since they had departed from Montressor, and he was going crazy with boredom. Not to say that Silver left him to his own devices – every morning, the cyborg rousted him out of his hammock at the crack of dawn, and only permitting him to go to sleep when the entire ship was scrubbed spotless. Jim practically fell into bed and was usually asleep before his eyes even fully closed. But he longed to feel the stiff breeze through his hair, feel the wind on his cheeks, and actually be out there _flying_. There was a deep streak of spacer in him, Sarah had always said – even as a child, Jim had been infatuated with space. He loved it, loved it even more now that he was actually out in space.

He untied the knots with his deft hands, and tossed them into the boat. He glanced over his shoulder warily – he hadn't exactly been _forbidden_ to take the skiff out, but there was an inherent sense of danger in his actions. The excitement coursed through his veins as he settled himself cautiously onto the bench, his hands dropping to the controls near his knees, and looking around at the small skiff. His heart rammed painfully against his chest, and his throat felt tight, but he was lightheaded with anticipation. He punched the activation button, and the engine purred appreciatively to life.

The hatch beneath him began to slowly open, and he cautiously nudged the skiff out into the white square of open sky beneath him. There was a single, solid moment of a sheer drop before the engines kicked in and he shot off. The controls hummed in his hands as he pulled out from his dive, and the wind began streaking against his hair, pulling the brown locks backwards as he soared exuberantly through the skies. _This_ was living, he told himself, and tumbled into a steep dive, the nose of the skiff pointing downwards as he bent at the waist to streamline his body.

The thick web of damp mist sparkled against his face, soaking his hair and he laughed, exhilarated, as he wiped the moisture out of his eyes with his sleeve. The skiff seemed just as eager to fly as he was, and he pulled himself out of the dive just in time, before he rammed against the docks. A few seasoned spacers were watching him, nudging their partners and looking up at the slender ship spiraling through the sky. He shouted with laughter, flipping the skiff over on itself and pushing sharply against the footboard to keep gravity at bay. Oh, the feeling of freedom was indescribable – a bird in its first flight, he opened the throttle wide and sent the skiff zipping into a bank of clouds.

As a combination of the wet fog and the heavy clouds, he was now soaked to the skin and a warm glow shook his skin. His heart felt as though it would burst out of his chest as he corkscrewed through a ridiculous end-over-end flip which almost made him lose his lunch. He wanted to do a lot more, but as the skiff settled to an easy glide, he felt the passionate hum of vibrancy rattle his core. He had achieved the sensation he had been looking for – he had wanted to chance it, to take the skiff out, and the whole danger of being caught was what he had wanted. He guided the nose of the skiff back into the docking bay, and slapped the button, panting and laughing to himself.

There wasn't a clock nearby, but if there had been, he would have seen that he had only been flying for half an hour. He had only wanted to experience a bit of flying – nothing more than five minutes, ten, tops. Because in fifteen minutes, Silver and Rose were scheduled to come back to check on him, and they wouldn't find him in the galley. But Jim was blissfully unaware of this fact.

That is, until he heard Silver's low growl from the doorway.

"Tell me yeh didn't take t'at skiff out, lad."

Jim nearly jumped out of his skin, and he whipped around guiltily. Silver was framed in the doorway, his thick arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his face. Next to him, her eyes dull and completely unsurprised, stood Rose. Jim's chest heaved, but he couldn't think of an answer, a motion, anything to break this awful silence which was stretching between them. Silver shook his head. He had a disappointed look on his face, and Jim felt anger surge through him, anger and frustration. He wished Silver would shout at him, cuff him on the ear, assign him more chores. He wanted Rose to yell at him and say he was a failure. But she had just turned away and fled. He heard her stamp across the hallway and slam the door to the galley.

"You didn't tell me not to," Jim heard himself saying. Silver looked at him, and there was a new light in his eyes – disappointment, surely, but also something like appreciation.

"Yeh fly t'at skiff pretty well, Jimbo," Silver said, advancing slowly. "Where'd yeh learn?"

Pride pricked at Jim's chest. "When I was a kid, I'd go out solar surfing in the quarries," Jim said softly. "This isn't much different."

Silver nodded once, and then turned to go. "Don't take tah skiff out wit'out me permission, lad," He said shortly, and then left. Jim expelled a breath between his teeth.

Had it been his imagination, but had an unsaid compliment hung in the air?

* * *

><p>He heard her before he saw her – the dishes clinking against each other, the water swishing angrily against her hands. He leaned against the doorway for a moment, just looking at her, watching her work. She didn't stray far from the sink, moving perhaps a half step to gather more dishes, but she seemed more content to keep her hands in the warm water. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, and he noticed she was trembling from head to foot, either from fear or anger he didn't know. Perhaps a combination of both. "T'ere's a dishwasher in tah corner, lass," He reminded her quietly, but she merely slammed a fork into the drawer and turned around sharply. Two wet trails of tears had forged down her flushed cheeks, and her chocolate eyes were flaring with emotion.<p>

"What is his problem?" She fumed, crossing the galley to collect the rag Jim had left on the chair. Her motions were jerky and she began scrubbing the counters fiendishly. "Doesn't he _realize_ there's rules? Doesn't he _know_? It's like he's _five years old_ all over again!" Her strokes across the counter were hard and jabbing, and she scoured far longer at stains than needed. Wisps of chestnut hair were coming out of her loose braid, framing her face in a curtain. "You _can't_ leave him alone! That was my job, that was why Mother sent me, to keep an eye on him! And the _one time_, repeat, _one time_, that I leave, he goes off in a boat and starts trying to _break his neck_!"

Silver was amused in spite of himself.

"He's a good spacer, lass, yeh can't deny t'at." He offered. She turned on him, and shook a small finger in his face.

"Don't you dare get into this, Mr. Silver! He's risking his _life_ out there, risking his life on this stupid, ridiculous treasure hunt!" She stopped herself and buried her face in her hands. Her cheeks felt hot to the touch, and the tears were coming despite her best efforts to keep them back. "Doesn't he _know_ what this does to me?" She said, more to herself than Silver. Actually, she had entirely forgotten that the big man was still there. "He _knows_ how I feel about space, and boats, and ships, and _anything_ to do with flying. And what does he do? Go out flying at every opportunity!" She looked up at him, brushing her hair out of her eyes and trying to compose herself. "And what and you smiling at, Mr. Silver?"

He shook his head slightly. "I'm t'inkin' I need tah take yer brother out flyin' one o' t'ese days," He said, and then left the galley to a speechless and sputtering Rose.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Sorry, I've been crazy busy with my deviantart account, trying to do all of my sketches at once. Grr! Sorry for the long wait, and I don't have much time, so I'm going to upload this quickly. I would love to respond to each of you like I usually do, but my roommate is yelling at me, so here you go! Sorry again!_


	9. Chapter 9: Hurt Either Way

**Title: _P_**_rate **Law**_

**Word Count: 2.826**

**Rating: T for Violence, Mild Language, Eventual Romance, and Suggestive Themes**

**WARNINGS: None for now.**

* * *

><p>"I don't know who you think I am, Mr. Silver, but I am <em>not<em> the kind of girl to go running off in a rickety ship which will probably collapse the instant I get inside."

She stood there, framed in the doorway, her arms folded, her chocolate-brown hair loose and down around her shoulders. It was actually the first time he had ever seen her hair down, and not in a braid or pinned up. Just yesterday he had heard her musing aloud about cutting it short, and he almost told her not to. _Almost_. Because that would imply that he cared about how she looked, which he decidedly _did not_. And who the _hell_ would cut off all of that _gorgeous_, silky brown curls, just so it wouldn't get in the way while she was working? He lounged easily near the switch which opened the hatchway, that smirk curling up the side of his mouth as he grinned at her. He seemed so _relaxed_, and perfectly at ease. It seemed as though he were a bit smug, to tell the truth. "T'is isn't a ship, lass," He remarked idly. She threw up her hands exasperatedly.

"I know, I know! A boat is a skiff, a sloop, or a dinghy, and ship is the _R.L.S. Legacy_." Rose said, annoyed. "It doesn't change the fact that I hate, repeat, _hate, _flying. Or sailing. Or spacing. Or actually leaving the ground at all. I just told you that last week!"

"And why do yeh t'ink I'm bringin' yeh out?" Silver shot back. "Yeh can't live in fear o' tah stars, lass. There's nuthin' tah be afraid of."

"Oh, except a short, painful death when I fall out of the skiff?" Rose retorted. "Take Jim. I'm sure he'd love to go."

"I'll take 'im later," Silver said patiently. "Get in tah boat, lass."

"Make me." Rose said, and made the mistake of turning her back on the old pirate.

"Ah'right, t'en."

Before she knew what had happened, a thick, muscular arm curved around her waist and dragged her back at least three steps. Her small feet left the deck, and she actually yelped in surprise as she was thrown over Silver's broad shoulder. "Put me _down! _I swear to God, John Silver, if you don't put me down I will _scream_! I'll tell the Captain! I will! I'll – _oomph_!" He set her down in the skiff, settling himself at the tiller, and Rose immediately scrambled for the side of the boat. With a rich laugh, Silver opened the hatchway and allowed the little boat to drift away from the ship. "Oh, dear," Rose whispered as the skiff began moving slowly. "John Silver, you turn this ship around _right now_!" She was trying to sound threatening, but the fear of spacing was constricting her vocal chords and made her sound like a mouse.

"Jus' relax, lass," Silver said, and pressed a button with his thumb. "Oh, an' yeh might wanna hang on t' somethin'," He remarked lazily, and sent the boat spinning into the stars.

For the first thirty seconds or so, Rose closed her eyes tightly and every nerve was on edge. But with her hair down and the stiff wind pulling it back, it created a delightful sensation, one that she hadn't actually experienced for several weeks. Silver watched with high amusement as she peeped out between her fingers, looking nervously down at the stars beneath them. He had seen it in her all along – she was from the same blood as Jimbo. And no person related to a boy who could maneuver a skiff like he had last week could _possibly_ be afraid of space. She swallowed hard, and tried to think of a suitable threat, but the stars beneath her caught her eyes.

Space had been nothing but cruel to Rose and Jim – first it had seduced and beguiled their father away from them, and then it had brought a shipload of pirates to burn down the Benbow Inn. But now, looking down at them, she saw a different kind of space than the flashy, wild abyss which had entranced her entire family save herself. Pinks and blues brushed the skies, and jeweled stars dotted the velvet heavens, framing the trails of artic comets. There were more colors than she could have imagined – golds and purples and oranges and whites, all swirled together as if putting on a show just for her. She hardly realized she was leaning over the side of the sloop, trailing her fingers in the Etheirum, when he laughed lowly, a deep rumble of a lion's purr. She turned on him, her brown eyes flashing, her dark hair a tangled mess around her face, remembering where she was and who she was with.

"John Silver, you _kidnapped_ me," She said, folding her arms. "Turn this boat around _right now_." She tried to sound stern, but it was impossible when he was giving her that smirk.

"Oh, did I?" He said, flicking the controls easily and causing the prow of the boat to dip playfully. She clung reflexively to the side of the boat, not daring to move until Silver had straightened the vessel out again. They didn't seem to be really going anyway, just "footling aimlessly about", as the Captain would put it. The ship was still in sight, and that gave Rose a small degree of comfort. Still, it was too far away to be able to reach quickly. "Relax, lass," Silver soothed. "Jus' the Etheirum. Naught but a bunch o' stars."

She honestly seemed torn between having a good time and adhering to her strict no-fun rule. Her gaze wavered for a moment, and then she drew her knees to her chest and took a steadying breath. Silver noticed that her ankles were fine and slender, just as her wrists were, and the bones seemed fragile. He cocked a brow and smirked at her, gesturing to the controls with his cybernetic hand. "'Ave a go, lass?" He asked.

"No," She said, almost before she understood what he was offering. "No, thank you," She repeated, when she had remembered her manners. "I'm – I mean, I haven't taken any lessons."

Silver rolled his eyes. "W'at tah devil do yeh t'ink t'is is, lass?" He shifted slightly, giving her enough room to be seated at the controls, and Rose debated internally. Her sensible mind began running over options: one, she could take the controls and crash, causing them both to die in a painful, fiery accident. Two, she could find out that she wasn't frightened of space at all. She wasn't sure which on scared her more. And then, her irrational side – a wild, untamed little lick of flame which was never allowed to broaden, and was usually snuffed out as soon as possible – spoke up. _But,_ her irrational side whispered, _If you sit over there, you can be near Silver. _

Somehow, this mattered more to her than overcoming her fear of space.

Silver had almost thought she was going to ignore him and threaten to turn the ship around, when she settled herself next to him in the blink of an eye. Hesitantly, her small fingers flexed over the controls, wrapping around the buffers nervously. This close to him, she caught a whiff of his tobacco smoke – a primal, spicy scent which made her cheeks decidedly pink. The steady, controlled hum of the engine filled her fingers and she felt as though she were about to unleash a small, wild beast onto the world. "Naow, press t'at button tah put it in gear," Silver instructed, and Rose reluctantly took one hand off the thruster and pressed it, her fingers shaking slightly. He purred a steady stream of instructions into her ear, and when she ran out of questions to ask, it was time to stop stalling.

Slowly, she began pushing forward on the controls, feeling the boat move beneath her. It was wholly exhilarating and a completely new experience for her, and the shaky, jostled nerves in her belly were mixed with a fluttering anticipation somewhere near the roof of her mouth. It was confusing and unknown, two things she hated to experience, but today it felt...different. Almost as if she wanted to try something new. Part of her mind connected this with Silver being this close to her – his reckless courage seemed to seep into her veins the more she stayed near him. Her sensible mind began to analyze this new emotion concerning the older man with the experienced eye of a jeweler. For the second time in as many moments, her irrational side clicked down over her sensible mind and she sent the boat careening through the stars.

She didn't try to go any loops or curves or flips, just a pure speed which pushed her farther back into the seat and against Silver's side. Dimly, she was aware of him laughing, and she felt his mechanical arm settle around her shoulders, in a friendly, companionable gesture which sent every nerve on fire. The faster she went, the better she felt, until their speed robbed her of air and she found herself pulling backwards on the thrusters just so she could breathe. When they drifted to a stop, she began to laugh. It was a painful, breathless laugh which sounded stilted and broken, but her cheeks were pink and her eyes were _dancing_. Silver must have known this all along – she wasn't afraid of flying, just of space. And once she knew how to fly, there was nothing left to frighten her of space.

The two of them never knew how long they spent out there, working up to higher and higher speeds, but a fantastic sunset was slipping, layer by layer, into the heavens when they pulled up into the belly of the ship. Rose was still breathless and delighted with her new accomplishments, and Silver was smug in that decidedly rough way which only he could attain. Hand over hand, the two of them pulled the boat into the port, and then shut the hatch, knotting the skiff securely in place. Rose leaned against the side of the boat, trying to catch her breath, and forcing her heart to slow down with limited success. "That was..._amazing_." Rose said, smiling. Her curly brown hair was a tangled mess around her face and shoulders, her bangs windswept and carelessly splashed across her face.

"Tah tell teh truth, I'da t'ought yeh'd flown before naow," Silver said. "Yeh got natural skill, lass – it'll take a bit o' time tah develop 'em."

"Oh, no," Rose said, rubbing her eyes and trying to push the blush off her face. "I'm not going out unless you or Jim are with me. There is no _way_ I'm flying a ship by myself."

"Yeh jus' did," Silver pointed out, grinning at her.

"Yes, but –" Rose began, and then cut herself short. She couldn't explain how brave she had felt when she was next to him – didn't want to, either. She wasn't sure even _she_ could understand it, so she was certain whatever she said next would come out wrong. So, instead, she stood up, and pecked Silver on the cheek. "Take Jim out later tonight. He'd love it." She said, and then left, stepping briskly onto the landing platform and allowing the door to hiss shut behind her.

Silver just sat there, dumbfounded. That was twice he had underestimated the two of them – once when Jim had fought Scroop, and now Rose kissing him. It had been a light, friendly gesture, but it didn't stop it from searing against his skin like a brand. After a moment, he rubbed his face with his hands and sighed to himself. This was getting too complicated too fast – Flint's Trove wasn't far away, he could sense it in the air, but with these new attachments he had to Jim and his sister, things were starting to get cloudy. It had been such a simple, clean plan – mutiny, get the treasure, leave. But now he was trying to think of a way to keep the Hawkins siblings safe from harm, which was virtually impossible.

No matter how many times he reworked the plan in his head, someone always got hurt. This was not going to end well.

* * *

><p>"Enjoy your flight, Miss Hawkins?" Came a crisp, clean voice near off to her left. Rose jumped guiltily and tore her gaze from the small black dot of the skiff, where Silver and Jim were flying. Amelia noted the enhanced light in her young charge's eyes, the usually polite brown orbs flashing with a thousand points of golden light. Her hair had been pulled back and secured in a knot at the base of her neck, but the thick fringe of dark hair spilling into her eyes still looked uncombed and messy.<p>

"Yes, ma'am. It was wonderful," Rose said carefully. Amelia was remarkably astute, and maybe she could explain this tearing little feeling inside her chest every time she was around Silver. Rose opened her mouth to voice her question when Amelia's low, catlike growl reached her ears.

"I must warn you, Miss Hawkins, that your attachment to a certain cook is dangerous and should be terminated at all costs," Amelia said tartly. Rose snapped her mouth shut, and the word stumbled out between her lips before she could stop it.

"Why?" She sputtered. Amelia arched an eyebrow.

"Because I have reasonable proof that something is amiss on this ship, and that John Silver is at the center of it. I don't want you in anything that is to follow, do you understand, Miss Hawkins?" Amelia said lowly.

Rose didn't have much of a temper – and when she did, it was usually directed towards the ever-frustrating Jim, whom she was constantly trying to protect and care for. But anger towards a superior and a mentor had _never _happened, even towards Sarah, and it was so new to her that Rose almost didn't know what it was. "Captain, didn't you put me in Mr. Silver's care?" Rose asked, her voice hot. "I don't see how I am expected to 'terminate' my relationship with him if I am near him around the clock."

"You misunderstand me," Amelia said, focusing her full gaze on Rose, and she saw the fierce determination in the Felid's eyes. "I am trying to _protect_ you, Miss Hawkins – I have already had a similar conversation with your brother, and he was expectedly unreasonable about it. I had hoped you were sensible enough and mature enough to realize when someone is trying to care for another person."

"Your concern is appreciated, but –" Rose began, but Amelia cut her off ruthlessly.

"No! I will not tolerate any if's, and's, or but's, Miss Hawkins. That man is dangerous. He – is – not – to – be – trusted. It is for your own good, your own _safety_, Miss Hawkins, that I am now placing you in the care of Mr. Arrow, my first mate. I don't know why I didn't follow this course of action from the start; putting you in closer contact with that man was foolhardy of me." The Captain said icily.

"_That man_?" Rose said incredulously. "Mr. Silver has shown nothing but respect and friendship with me, Captain, and I will not end a friendship just because you get a bad feeling in your claws!" Rose knew she was shooting her mouth off and Amelia was looking at her with colder and colder disdain, but she didn't care. "I _like_ Mr. Silver – I find his company to be enjoyable and I don't seem to find anything wrong with either his character or his morals. Yes, he is rough, and _yes_, he is uncultured, but _damn it_, he is a good friend to me!" Rose said, and actually stamped her foot.

"Good Lord," The Captain said quietly, almost speaking to herself. "This is worse than I thought."

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, her brows coming together. She had been biting her lip in frustration and now the lower lip was indented with two red marks.

What the Captain had been going to say was never said, because at that exact moment, in a queer turn of fate, the ship nearly crashed into an asteroid. All crewmates looked at the sky, and they saw a star explode, rings of yellow fire swelling around a small red dot.

"The star Pellucid!" Delbert was heard shouting over the hullabaloo. "It's gone..._supernova_!"

__

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><p><p>

_A/N: Sorry for cutting it short right there, but I hate the upcoming scene and am really not looking forward to writing it. :/ What did you think of Amelia and Rose's conversation? And Silver's musings? Please tell me, I'm not sure if I got the emotions right in this chapter._


	10. Chapter 10: Damn It All

**Title: **_Everything's Made To Be Broken _**Formerly Titled "'Pirate Law'"**

**Author: **QuikkSilver

**Summary: **With a felon for a younger brother, Rose spent her life watching after Jim. Now that they're searching for treasure in space, Rose has to find out who she is as a woman. And how better to do that then fall in love with a pirate?

**Warnings: SEXUALLY SUGGESTIVE CONTENT.**

**Rating: **T for Romance, Sexually Suggestive Content, Sequences of Action, and Mild Language.

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><p><strong>Chapter Ten: Damn It All<strong>

* * *

><p>The hot buffet of air which rammed into the ship sent it careening through the Etheirum, dry, dusty winds striking against the spacer's faces. There was a mad scramble as spacers went flying backwards, and Rose found herself entangled in a thick, coarse rope which weighed at least fifty pounds. The Captain had leapt up the stairs, and amid the shouts of distress Rose could have sworn she heard a panicked hiss from the Felid. Amelia's orange fur was fluffed out, and the long, slender tail which swished between her legs was thick and the hair was on edge. "Evasive action, Mister Turnbuckle!" She shouted, and Mr. Turnbuckle's brawny tentacles gripped the steering wheel, jerking the sleek, slender boat away from the exploding planet. Several flaming pieces of rubble punched through the delicately scaled solar sails, burning charred holes into the specialized material. "Tie down those sails, Mr. Arrow!" Amelia ordered, and the granite-faced spacer turned to the crew.<p>

"All spacers fasten their lifelines!" Mr. Arrow barked. "Secure those sails, men!"

Spacers disentangled themselves from where they had been stunned and raced to secure the sturdy tarred ropes around their waists. Jim's heart was pounding – every nerve was on high alert, adrenaline thrumming through his system. He caught a glimpse of Rose, her face open and terrified, fingers fumbling clumsily with her lifeline, and Jim realized she hadn't taken the knot-tying lessons Silver had given him. But there was no time, Silver was already climbing up the rigging to secure the sails, and Jim was hot on his heels. Rose began hauling herself up, every inch of her sweating, her dark braid a frizzy rope from the dry heat and the fear lacing her blood. There was a confused tangle of thoughts and sounds snaring in her mind, and she edged out on the yardarm, hands shaking, body quivering.

Tying up sails were tricky – to do so, you had to drop to your knees and straddle the yardarm, taking special care not to look over the edge and go plummeting to your doom. It was a sheer drop to a hard, unforgiving death, and Rose's vision swam. Some inner demon danced beyond her line of eyesight, grinning wolfishly and chanting _Fall! Fall! Fall! _Sliding to her knees, her groping hands found the trailing lines and began lashing it around the yardarm. Most of the spacers were halfway through with their task, while Rose had only just begun, and she felt tears prick the corner of her eyes, more out of desperate fear than anything. Her motions jerky and erratic, she tied the best knot she could with her shaking hands and began inching over to the safety of the mizzen shrouds. She looked up, making sure Jim and Silver were all right, and her heart leapt to her throat.

She saw him lose his balance, his wide frame tumbling over the side, face surprised as he wheeled in empty air. And Jim, reflexes fast as a cat, leaping forward, grabbing the rope with his hands, and began pulling. His neck corded as he exerted every ounce of strength he possessed, balance unyielding as his legs spread to steady himself. The rope bit deep into his palms, slicing the subtly calloused palms, but he held steady. Dimly, with the blood roaring through his ears, he heard a woman's scream, but he pulled until he saw a cybernetic arm claw at the yardarm. The massive, broad bulk of Silver hauled himself up onto the yardarm and clapped Jim on the back. "T'anks, lad!"

Jim looked up at Rose, saw she was white as a sheet, and began clambering down the mizzen shrouds. Rose took a long draught of air, and her mind crowded in on her – _Why was that so painful?_ – but she shoved the thought away, instead electing to get her feet on solid ground. It had all happened so fast, and her stomach was still in a frantic, frayed knot, a bundle of nerves and tension. She began climbing down the rigging, the rope roughing her soft palms, and nearly lost her grip from the second jerky _wham_, and went tumbling on the deck, skinning her shins up to the knee. She yelped at the pain, her legs sore and bleeding, and she looked up through a haze of pain.

Delbert was yelling something over the terrific noise, and then Mr. Arrow's booming voice roared out, "Loose those sails, men!"

"But we just finished tying 'em down!" Oxy and Moron complained.

"Make up yer bloomin' minds!" Birdbrain Mary snapped.

Rose's jaw just dropped. Go back _up_? It had almost killed her to go up the first time, and she was _not_ going up again. But there was no choice – you couldn't argue with the Captain. People who did ended up in the brig. Jim was on the deck, tightening all of the lifelines, and she prayed that the knot she made was tight enough. With all the noise and confusion, the lessons Silver had given her about knot tying slipped from her mind. She began climbing again, pulling herself up hand over hand. Everyone was so much _faster_ – and her legs _hurt_, damn it. It was a burning, searing feeling, and she reached up to grab the yardarm to haul herself up again. Her arms ached; she was a weakling, compared to all these brawny sailors. She was paying so much attention that she didn't feel the accidental jostle from Moron's elbow for a split second.

Jim saw two lifelines go taut simultaneously – Arrow's and Rose's.

Her boot slipped.

Her grip released.

And she plunged into space.

The scream which Silver heard was horrible, a skin-crawling, heart-wrenching shriek which would make even the bravest man shudder. He whipped around and saw a spacing line taut, and there was only _one_ person stupid enough and weak enough to fall off a yardarm by herself. And that was Rose, the girl who wasn't even _supposed_ to be on this damned ship! He was moving before his brain even fully completed this furious, panicked thought, and he leapt across the yardarm as the sleek solar sails unfurled just in time.

Scroop saw Silver move, saw the boy's head turn, and seized his chance. With a pouncing, skulking movement, he snapped Mr. Arrow's line, sending the spacer wheeling into a sparkled abyss. A satisfied smirk curled around his fangs, and he scuttled down the mizzen shrouds, heading for the mast to destroy the evidence. It would be the cabin boy's fault – another thing to test Silver about. Scroop knew for certain about Silver's feelings towards Rose; nobody moved that quickly for someone they didn't care about.

Her arms _burned_ – she couldn't pull herself upwards one more time, her shoulders and back were on _fire_, every muscle grating against each other. It felt as though her spine was infused with shrapnel. Suddenly, the rope beneath her began to move, and she clung with all her might, her aching arms and back quivering and threatening to collapse on her. And then, a youthful, familiar voice, full of concern, was audible above the noise of the ship's engines. "Hang on, Rose! I'm coming!" Jim shouted, and began pulling on her lifeline, fist over fist.

Silver pushed him out of the way roughly, and Jim barely had time to protest before Silver's huge, mechanical hand gave the rope a swift jerk. A small, bruised, trembling hand emerged over the railing, and Jim was at her side in an instant. She felt a hand grasping her shirt, pulling her up, and she was sprawled over the deck. She could feel the thick, painful, steady pulse of blood in her stretched shoulders and back. Her hearing flickered in an out, wavering, and she could _feel_ Silver's voice, his presence. A deep, rumbling growl which thrummed through her veins, a ridged, metal hand cupping her face, a solid, calloused one slapping her cheek as she blinked blearily.

Icy cold water deluged her, and she came to, sputtering and coughing. Kneeling above her with a businesslike, concerned look on her face was the Captain. She was holding a bucket and seemed relieved that Rose was conscious. "Ah, good," Amelia said briskly. "You took quite a fall, Miss Hawkins. Take care, now, Mr. Silver. Let her stand. Easy, child."

Rose swayed, and felt the steadying hand of Silver on her waist. " –_Fine_," She mumbled, blinking, her limbs quivering from her recent strain. "Just fine."

"Of course you are," The Captain said coolly. "You acted spectacularly, Miss Hawkins, although I would suggest leaving the rigging work to more experienced spacers in the future. Steady, Miss Hawkins," Amelia cautioned as Rose's vision unfocused again. "Mr. Silver, take her to the kitchens post-haste. She'll need medical tending. Mr. Hawkins, I would suggest you assist him," Amelia ordered.

"Yes, ma'am, Jim said, and began following Silver down to the galleys.

"And, Mr. Hawkins?" Amelia called after him. "It seems you did a bang-up job securing those lines. Congratulations, Mr. Silver, you've managed to turn this hoodlum into a dependable spacer."

Jim blushed.

"Mr. Arrow, any losses?" Amelia asked.

There was silence.

"Mr. Arrow?"

The soft clicking of spidery legs on wood came through the sudden silence which followed. "I'm afraid Missssster Arrow hasss been lossst," Hissed Scroop, feigning sympathy, and held up Mr. Arrow's hat as evidence.

The shock written on Amelia's face was plainly visible, and she actually took a step backwards, as if tempted to simply run away from the bad news. Her green eyes – usually so cold and sharp – went wide and soft, horrified orbs of brilliant emerald. She took the hat, running the tip of her long, dark nail along the edge. The Captain swallowed hard, trying to compose herself in front of her crew, who were all looking at her with numb shock. Silver and Rose had paused, Rose's head still ringing. Rose could have sworn she heard wrong. Silver glared at Scroop with unabashed ferocity.

Amelia tried desperately to gather herself. _I will not cry_, she shouted at herself mentally. _I will not cry, damn it,_ _willnotwillnotwillnotCRY!_

"Mr. Arrow was a –" The catch in her voice displayed a world of hurt, and she struggled to hold herself together. "-A fine spacer. But he knew the risks, as do we all. Back to your posts," She commanded, and turned to go and bawl her eyes out in her cabin.

But she spared a moment to pierce Jim with an angry, blaming glare.

The young teen's eyes were brimming with tears – his jaw couldn't work, his tongue was too thick to voice a protest. He had checked them all! He remembered! He had actually checked Rose's twice. Silver saw the open, honest disbelief and horror in the young boy's eyes, and Rose shrugged Silver's arm off her shoulder.

"Jim?" She asked, taking an unsteady step towards him. "Jim, are you all right?"

The brunette looked at her, terror-stricken, and bolted down the deck. "Jim!" Rose called, and her voice sounded as weak as her legs. "Jim! Please, Jim, come back!" Silver caught her gently as she sank to her knees, choking back a sob. The rapid events of the past ten minutes were overwhelming her, and she wasn't even sure _why_ she was crying. She was so _sore_, and Arrow was dead, and Jim was in trouble _again_, and she just couldn't keep up a steady face anymore. She pushed Silver away from her, stumbling down to the galley. She didn't want him to see her cry. It was important to her, somehow.

Silver was torn – Jim or Rose? Rose could fend for herself.

He limped after his young charge.

* * *

><p>Silver came into the galley almost an hour later, after a long, soothing talk with a frustrated and tear-streaked Jim. The galley was quiet, the lights down low, and he sighed. Evidently Rose had already tended to her wounds and left, and he sat down on a nearby bench with a heavy sigh. Rubbing his temples, he tried to focus away the ridiculous emotions he had cartwheeling in his chest. He knew now – he needed to protect the Hawkins' siblings. Letting Jim come to any harm when he was already so scarred was unthinkable. And if any harm, emotional or physical, came to Rose ... Silver stopped a low growl before it purred from his throat, and clenched his mechanical hand into a fist. His feelings towards Rose were becoming sharper, more defined, and he resisted them. The idea of anybody hurting her cut into him, and he was finding her – <em>attractive<em>. Damn it all to hell and back.

He _desired_ her. _Hard_.

Oh, this was _rich_. As if his plan wasn't complicated enough with Jimbo involved.

A little sigh-moan came from the corner, and he was on high alert instantly, looking around, his cybernetic eye scanning the shadows. He saw her silhouette in the next room, the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He approached the door cautiously, opening it slowly, the hinges creaking slightly.

She was hitching her shirt up around her ribcage, unknowingly displaying a fabulous stripe of dark bruises across her lower back. With limited success, she was trying to dab some of the Captain's special ointment across the bruise, and she looked up at the sound of the door opening. She was too tired to blush. She felt wrung out, exhausted, empty, dead. She sighed and dropped the hem of her shirt, sitting down heavily on the counter. "Hey," She said, her voice raspy and hoarse from the panicked scream earlier. "How is he?"

"He don't know w'at 'appened," Silver admitted. "Says 'e tightened 'em all. I believe 'im."

"I don't know," Rose sighed, burying her fingers in her chestnut hair. "I don't know anymore, Silver. I wish I was home."

There was a long silence, and then Silver rubbed her back. It would have been a quick, companionable gesture, except his touch sent electric shivers down her spine. She looked at him with those big brown eyes, normally so quiet, submissive, polite, and handed him the small bottle of ointment. "Could you help?" She asked.

His eyes were uncertain, and then she revealed her bruises again, sitting gingerly on the edge of the counter. _You're messing up the plan, John_, He told himself angrily.

And then he decided he didn't give a damn.

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><p><strong>AN: Happy Valentine's Day! Make my Valentine's day even sweeter with a couple of reviews! Please? Pretty please? **


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